


Full House

by LadyLanera



Series: To Build a Home Universe [1]
Category: Lucifer (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Self-Harm, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Case, Bad Puns, Blow Jobs, Bobby and Jody raised Dean and Sam, COVID-19, Castiel and Gabriel are Siblings (Supernatural), Chuck Shurley's A+ Parenting, Coming Out, Director Gabriel (Supernatural), Domestic Bliss, Eileen Leahy Ships Sabriel, Engaged Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Established Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Explicit Language, FBI Agent Dean Winchester, Family Secrets, Hurt Gabriel (Supernatural), Instance of a Panic Attack, Jack Kline and Claire Novak are Siblings, Lawyer Sam Winchester, Married Castiel/Dean Winchester, Minor Kaia Nieves/Claire Novak, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Retired Castiel, Sam Winchester & Eileen Leahy Friendship, Secret Relationship, Semi-Public Sex, Shower Sex, Someone takes Baby for a spin, Therapy goes off the rails, Voyeurism, Wedding eventually, instance of gun violence at end, mention of past child abuse, mini-Lucifer and SPN crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:48:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 112,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24550327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyLanera/pseuds/LadyLanera
Summary: As the world shut itself in because of COVID, the Winchesters quickly find themselves discovering hard truths about family and all of its secrets. Weaving through the uncertainty of what was once certain, their bonds strengthen as they chose family and love.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Series: To Build a Home Universe [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969108
Comments: 50
Kudos: 81





	1. Full House

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovelies. I'll keep these notes brief since the first chapter is rather long. I've been editing and editing this first one for about two weeks now. And I just finished re-editing it for what seems to be the hundredth time tonight. I could probably edit it some more too because, well, I'll admit that I'm positively nervous about this fic. You're probably wondering why. It's because I know there are so many other Covid-19/Quarantine and AU fics out there already that are so brilliant and inspiring. I've read so many of these and found myself each time going "I want to write one. I badly want to write one." So, here we are.
> 
> In addition, I've reached that level of quarantine (I'm a solo quarantinee) where I've started naming my fic bunnies-and this one is named Charlie-and he's sort of long-winded. Anyway, long story short, this is my take on the tropes of "Secret Lovers" and "Covid-19 quarantine" among several others. It's going to have humor, smut (I'm not sure how much because, well, I honestly don't write that much usually), drama, family, and the usual others. I'll try to lay off the heavy on it as best as I can, but I'll admit that I'm a drama/angsty/romance writer. Sorry. Many thanks goes to [RiaRose](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiaRose/pseuds/RiaRose) for helping me with the smut-ish sections. Seriously, if you love _Marvel_ Stony fics, she's your woman. Either way, hope you enjoy.
> 
> Update as of 6/9/20: So, my fic bunny Charlie decided we needed to make this a crossover between Netflix's _Lucifer_ and CW's _Supernatural_. I've updated the tags for this. It's nothing against Pelligrino's Lucifer. I just have been watching a lot of Netflix's _Lucifer_ recently so Tom Ellis's version is in my head currently. He will appear in a few scenes, but only as a background character.

To anyone walking past the ranch-style, tan brick-accented house in the sleepy subdivision, the home looked fairly boring. It was well-maintained and its occupants usually kept to themselves. That wasn't to say they weren't friendly if caught by a neighbor or two outside because the family always was and so very respectful—except for that one incident a few years back. But most of the neighborhood had forgotten about that time honestly. It wasn't unless one wandered too close and heard the sounds from within that one would know that the house was anything but quiet inside usually.

Stilted needy moans mixed with the rhythmic thumping of the rich mahogany headboard as it slammed against the wall incessantly from the lovers' frantic coupling. Slowly, it built into a crescendo that ended with a shouted broken curse to the Heavens. The happy couple were blissfully unaware of the outside world, focused entirely on themselves and their intense, everlasting love for one another. Like most mornings these days.

With a wide gummy grin, the messy raven-haired man stared down in absolute adoration, watching his lover gasp as his softening cock slipped out with a pop, a trail of come leaking out. His husband was always so fucking stunning in the morning light, more so after sex. As the rough, calloused hands flailed out to grip their satin bed sheets, he observed the thrown back head, neck taut, mouth agape, and puff of breath from his lover, holding himself back from sucking the delightful flesh and marking him even more. Instead, he counted all the sexy freckles speckling his husband's face until the deep, throaty moan made him lose count. He rumbled a soft chuckle tiredly in response, flopping down and pressing a tender kiss against the badly kiss-swollen lips.

"What?" innocently feigned his husband, the deep emerald eyes glistening up brightly, as the puffy pink lips twitched in badly hidden amusement.

"Of all the men in the universe, you, Dean Winchester, are the one I had to fall for." Cerulean eyes rolled hard as he slowly pushed himself up and scooted off the bed.

"Fate's a bitch, ain't she, Cas?" Dean joked back, running a hand through his dark sweat-drenched lighter feathery hair. He sprawled himself out sinfully like he was ready for an encore, which honestly probably wasn't that far from the truth. He locked his fingers behind his head and stared back enticingly, even wiggling his hips suggestively when he caught the sharp gaze again.

Snorting back, though, Cas shook his head before he tossed the first piece of clothing he could find in the somewhat darkened room towards the bed. Outside, the rain steadily fell against their curtained window. It was going to be a dreary day. "Clean yourself up. You have work in two hours."

"How about you come over here and do it yourself, angel?" purred Dean, his tongue flicking out to run over his lips briefly before he winked back.

Another scoff filled the air before Cas pointed back at the brat in their bed. "You're worse than an incubus, I swear." He turned away and padded silently towards the opened door opposite of them that led into their master bathroom.

"Really?" instantly complained Dean in obvious disbelief. "You're just going to leave me, your drop-dead gorgeous husband, hanging here like this?" He objected louder when Cas still didn't take the bait. "I see how it is. I put a ring on it, and now you're all," his voice immediately lowered into his husband's deep timbre, " _Yes. Just one orgasm is adequate for now. Any more than that, and we will need to head to the nearest emergency room_." He tore his gaze back disappointingly and glared up at the ceiling. "So much for our profound bond," he muttered bitterly, his hand absentmindedly stroking his cock lazily. He could feel the pulse of blood slowly returning, despite already falling to completion just minutes prior.

"Yes, I know. You're horribly mistreated," Cas retorted back with another eye roll, pausing in the doorway to glance back. The soulful baby blues trailed down the naked form of the sex god of Kansas—or so his _hilarious_ idiot liked to call himself. "Dean," he called out gruffly, his left brow raising as his arms folded neatly across his tanned chest impatiently, "are you waiting for me to grip you tight and raise you from perdition here?" He caught the surprised forest green dart back to him instantly and forced himself not to react. Damn, he was so fucking lucky to be married to Dean.

Understanding the unsaid words, his husband instantly scrambled off their bed, tossing aside the shirt he had used to clean up with earlier. "Coming!"

Cas waited until he could feel the heat coming off him before he rumbled another dark chuckle. His left brow—the dom!brow as his husband affectionately liked to call it—rose more as he forced himself to stare back impassively, which honestly was hard to maintain when Dean looked that damn good afterwards. If he were only younger, then he'd be buried back deep within his righteous man who led him to his current downfall. "Yes," he murmured, the deep oceanic blues flicking downwards suggestively before he returned to the freckled face, "you will be." Dean shivered, he noted in glee.

* * *

A half hour later dressed in his familiar white button-down dress shirt and a pair of black slacks with a thick leather belt slipped through the loops, Dean sighed heavily before he tossed down his phone frustrated onto the bedside table with a frown. He caught the quick flinch from Cas, who had been watching him dress from their bed. The once gentle rain now turned into a miserable downpour.

"Sorry," he muttered, giving Cas a quick apologetic smile.

His husband waved it away, though, and instantly crawled on his knees to the edge of the bed, glancing up. "Is everything all right?"

"Depends," Dean replied vaguely, meeting the worried blues a second later.

"On?"

He leaned forward to meet Cas's look. "If you were hoping to have the house mostly to yourself for this whole quarantine thing," he quipped with a shit-eating grin suddenly engulfing his face.

His husband stared, though, his head pulling back in surprise. "What?"

Dean chuckled in response. "Starting tomorrow, they're shutting down the field office and having all of us work remotely while this is whole COVID crap is going on. Of course I'm not sure how they want me to do that exactly, but that's what my boss just said." He rested his hands on the strong, bare, tanned shoulders. "So, you're stuck seeing my ugly mug 24/7, sunshine."

"Oh." His deep soulful blue eyes quickly darted away towards the far wall.

"Yeah, uh, not the reaction I was going for here, but okay . . ."

"No." His husband turned back sharply. "I mean, I'm happy of course that you're going to be here." He returned a loving smile, gently plucking one of the hands from his shoulder before pressing feather-light kisses against the cracked, calloused fingertips, working his way down to Dean's wrist. "I just wasn't expecting it," he admitted, glancing up as he pulled back a second later.

"Yeah. Me neither." Dean bent his knees slightly and pressed their foreheads together. "But I got to admit, it'll be good being here with you all day. Damn better than what I was thinking at least."

His brows knit together as the blue eyes did their usual squinting head tilt. "How so?"

"Well, Mom was saying the other day how the mayor or whatever was suggesting she and the deputies stay at the precinct until this is over. Something about less movement or—I don't know, man. I honestly tuned her out after a while." He then straightened himself back up, rubbing his back with a wince while keeping his left hand on Cas's shoulder.

"Dean!" his husband cried in outrage.

"What?" He shrugged back. "There's only so much you can take of hearing her go on about Sioux Falls this and Sioux Falls that, and 'When are you boys and the kids going to come up this way again and visit,' etc, etc."

"She misses you," Cas remarked pointedly.

He scoffed, though. "No. She misses the chance to fuss over me." He then smirked, his brilliant greens darkening slightly. "You know what this means, though, right?"

Blue eyes rolled again with a loud groan. "So help me, if you suggest using handcuffs again in the bedroom, I'm divorcing you."

Dean huffed, lightly hitting him in the shoulder. "Jeez, grump. Not everything about me has to do with sex."

"Oh, really?" The piercing deep sapphires stared back disbelievingly.

"Really."

"Then what were you going to say, hmm?"

Dean blinked. "Uh—"

"That's what I thought," huffed Cas, pulling out of Dean's embrace before he stood beside their bed for a moment. "You should finish getting dressed."

"Or not . . ." After all, he only needed to go into the office at some point today. It was never specified when exactly he had to do it. Just that he needed to be set up before tomorrow.

"Dean," warned the vibrant blue-eyed man.

"Fine. You never let me have any fun." He gasped loudly when strong hands suddenly seized his waist and yanked him into Cas. Damn, he loved it when his husband manhandled him like this.

"I let you have all sorts of fun. I'm just not as sex crazed as you are," Cas retorted, a hand lightly pulling Dean's chin down to force their eyes to meet.

"Well, yeah, because your parents were super religious or whatever."

"If that were true, how would you explain my brother I wonder?"

"Eh, still not sure you two _are_ related honestly," Dean quipped, his body quickly melting into his husband's embrace. He loved these moments when it was just them in the house. They were usually few and far between unfortunately even with the kids away at college now. Either he was working long hours at the office on some case or Cas was held up in his on some weird project thing. He closed his eyes, breathing in the weird fruity shampoo his husband used. This would be one of their last moments alone together. He wanted it to last forever, knowing it wouldn't, though.

Snickering, Cas lightly brushed his lips over Dean's. Like usual, they melded together within seconds, trying to climb into each other to become one again. He eased them back out of the loving gesture a few moments later with a tiny sigh, their chests heaving. "As much as I would love to agree with you, I can't." His eyes softened sadly, clearly wishing the two would get past their animosity somehow. "So, please, do try to get along with him. You and he are not that different honestly."

"Yeah, see, the only thing that ass and I have in common is you, man. But, yeah, sure. I'll play nice with him the next time I see him again. Scout's Honor." He waved a hand dramatically. "Which isn't going to be— _what_ —until the holidays, right?"

"About th—"

_Ding dong._

"Saved by the bell," Dean drawled, "literally." He smirked before he gave his few inches shorter husband a brief kiss and then skipped off towards the front door. All in all, it was surprisingly shaping up to be the best day yet. "Please be girl scouts. Please be girl scouts," he chanted quietly to himself, turning the knob. He had been craving the damn thin mints for ages now, but someone—the sexy loser in the bedroom—wouldn't pick them up at the store. Some such garbage about preservatives and how they were bad for you. Which was hilarious considering Cas had zero problem with his stupid damn microwavable burritos he'd eat occasionally.

The second the door opened and forest green eyes saw the short, sandy-haired man standing on the porch with a suitcase at his side, Dean glared, cursing God to Hell with Lucifer. Fuck! He just had to put that bad mojo out in the universe earlier, hadn't he? Damn it!

"Nope," remarked Dean a second later, slamming the door shut in his brother-in-law's face. He didn't care. He did not fucking care one bit! He turned away to head back to the bedroom. Out of sight, out of mind.

_Ding Dong!_

"God— _fucking_ —damn it," he hissed under his breath, stopping in mid-step. His shoulders hunched violently in irritation.

"Who is it?" Cas called out from their bedroom, likely getting dressed in a hurry now at the prospect of a guest.

"Jehovah's witness," Dean lied, whirling back around with clenched teeth. He had to get rid of the asshole on his front porch before Cas saw him. Otherwise, he'd be screwed.

"Please, for my sake, don't yell at them this time like a raving lunatic!" his husband shouted back. "I'm still getting looks at the store over it, and it's been over three years."

"No promises, angel," he replied back with a yell. Since he knew his husband did love his annoying asshole brother, he would have to suck this up and deal with the annoying idiot sooner rather than later. He threw open the door a second later and glared murderously. "Gabriel, I swear I'll—" The hissed words died on his lips when he finally noticed. Downcast amber eyes, left hand placed over right wrist, head hanging low, disheveled appearance, not engaging in conversation, not exhibiting usual juvenile behavior. "What's wrong?" he asked, his irritation quickly replaced with genuine concern.

It took a few moments, but eventually his brother-in-law lifted his head up to look him in the eyes, the drenched golden dark locks framing his face miserably. Dean instantly felt a chill sweep down his spine. He had only spoken directly with him at the wedding five years ago, but he could never recall seeing that particular haunted look in the man's eyes before. Whatever it was, it wasn't good at all.

"Castiel didn't talk to you." Gabriel forced a sad smile before he nodded jerkily. "Oh." He glanced back down at the ground, shifting his weight awkwardly. "I can—I'll just—yeah." He turned away to head back into the fierce downpour.

Dean inhaled sharply, glancing upwards as he wondered why the hell every Novak man he had ever met was always so damn dramatic all the time. "Cas!" he bellowed, watching his brother-in-law turn back around in surprise after having taken only a step or two from the front door. When he caught Gabriel's stance relax slightly and watched the withdrawn amber regain a little bit more of its usual spark, he knew his husband was finally approaching from behind.

"Gabriel!" Cas gasped the second he likely saw his brother. "But you said—"

"Yeah. I know," replied glumly the downtrodden man. "Sorry, Cassie. Had to change the time thanks to Zachariah and his douchbaggery-ness."

Cas stepped up beside Dean then. "It happened then?" he asked gently, which threw Dean for a loop even further.

"Unfortunately."

A second later, the younger Novak wrapped his big brother in a warm embrace tightly. They held one another for a few moments before they pulled apart, Cas's arm easily sliding across his brother's back to pull him into a side embrace.

"Come inside. I'll make you some hot chocolate while you change into drier clothes."

"Uh . . ." Dean cleared his throat and forced an uncomfortable smile, seemingly snapping out of his thoughts finally. "Cas, could I talk to you in the bedroom?" When he saw the squinted look, he forced his smile more. " _Please_?"

"Kitchen's over there," his husband directed to his brother as they walked inside.

Dean and Cas strode quickly to their room, reaching it a few moments later, with Dean closing the door quietly behind them. Where would he even begin to start with this one?

Cas held up a hand, though, quickly deciding he'd go first and start this conversation. "I know what you're going to say—"

"Oh, I very much doubt you do," he quipped, sighing heavily as he shook his head.

"He's my brother, Dean," Cas remarked emphatically, clearly ready to fight tooth and nails.

"Yeah, no, I get that." The green eyes darted to his husband. "All right. I do." He held up his hands sympathetically. "And I feel for the guy. But, Cas, he absolutely cannot stay here."

"Why not?" his husband challenged, taking a step towards Dean. "We have the guest room. And with the kids staying away in the dorms, it's not like he's going to be imposing all that much. He may get annoying, which you have my permission to punch him over, but we can't just throw him out onto the streets." Cas's hands then grasped his, squeezing his hands firmly and pleadingly. "Please. I know you and he get on each other's nerves, but I'm asking you. Please."

"Cas—"

"Please, Dean. He doesn't do well by himself," he declared quietly. "All right. So when he told me he thought with everything going on that he would likely have to stop working and didn't know if he'd be able to pay his rent and everything, I offered our guest room. I know I should have asked, but he's my brother. The only damn one who hasn't tried to make my life a living hell. And he practically raised me. I can't just turn my back on him. I can't. Not when he's been with me through everything. When I had no one else, he was there. I can't do that to him. I can't."

Dean quickly pressed a finger to Cas's chapped lips and sighed heavily. "I love you," he murmured, sighing heavily. He caught his husband's immediate confusion and glanced down regretfully. "The reason he can't stay here is because you're not the only one who offered that room." He closed his eyes and waited for the blow up that would likely happen much later. "I asked Sam to come out here and offered it to him already. That's why I'm saying no. Not because it's your brother."

"Oh."

He sighed heavily and nodded slowly. "Yeah."

God, they were a bunch of dumbasses sometimes. Five years of marriage, and they still ran into these hiccups where one didn't tell a crucial thing to the other. Thankfully, they both had done it this time so they wouldn't be spending their isolation fighting the entire time. He hated when they fought.

"We'll tell him then," Cas stated a second later.

"What?" Dean blinked, confused.

"We'll tell him that Sam is going to be here, that you previously had offered the room to your brother first, and see what Gabriel says."

"Okay." Made sense at least. "But what if he decides to leave?"

"Then that's his decision, but, fair warning, I will be calling him every night to check on him if he decides to leave."

Dean smiled faintly before he pressed their foreheads together again, nuzzling their noses. It was a stupid thing they did every now and then, something Cas had started, but it had stuck.

"No matter what he decides," Dean quietly murmured, meeting the loving azure, "I want you to know that I won't kick him out. All right? You have my word. He's family. Even if he is an annoying little shit sometimes."

His husband snorted, pulling back and meeting his look. "You still haven't forgiven him for the reception yet?"

"No. And I'm surprised you have."

"It's Gabriel. He's . . ." He laughed quietly and sighed. "It would have been abnormal if he hadn't been found in one of the confessional boxes with someone."

"Dude! He had sex twice at our wedding!"

"I'm aware," Cas replied dryly with a carefree shrug. "You know, considering I'm the one who had the unfortunate pleasure of catching him while retrieving _your_ coat."

"That poor bridesmaid," Dean muttered, recalling a rather lewd and entirely bragging conversation he'd had with his brother-in-law at his stag party. Of course at the time he hadn't been aware that the bragging man sitting beside him would be his soon-to-be brother-in-law so he had enjoyed himself entirely too much swapping heavily sex-involved stories with the stranger. It wasn't until after Cas had introduced them that both Dean and Gabriel had realized their fatal mistake.

"For the record, it was a groomsman," Cas pointed out.

"What?" Green eyes darted to him. "I thought you said—but—wait. So he was shacking up with one of our groomsman? Dude! What the fuck?" He lightly hit Cas's shoulder with a glare. "Which one?" When Cas merely stared blankly back, Dean's mind went down the list of possibilities. It couldn't have been Sammy. His little brother just didn't swing that way. Ketch was a maybe, but he didn't want to think of him like that really. "Wait! Tell me it wasn't Benny. Please, God, tell me your brother didn't—ugh. No! Dude!" He punched him again in the shoulder. "Seriously, what's wrong with him?"

"Are you finished?" Cas stated brusquely, clearly long past finished with this topic.

"Yeah, fine. But, I mean, if he stays, we have to lay down some ground rules, all right? And the second he breaks one, he's out of here. Understand?"

"Yes," his husband replied with a groan. "Now, can we please head back out there? We are, after all, leaving him alone in our house unsupervised."

"Oh, shit. I didn't . . . yeah." Dean then reached out, grabbing Cas's forearm. "I meant what I said earlier, though. I mean, as long as he follows the rules mostly, I won't kick him out. And if he does break them, I'll make sure your brother has a place to stay beforehand. I know how . . . I mean . . ."

"Please stop," Cas mumbled with a soft look. "I knew what you meant without you drudging up our shitty childhood. You're a good man, Dean Winchester. It's one of the reasons I married you."

"Oh?" He smiled back cockily, forgetting about his brother-in-law for a moment again. "And what was the other, sunshine?"

"You're incorrigible." His husband chuckled back, glancing up at him and staring deep into his soul, as if it were just them and no one else in the world anymore.

Dean lowered his head slowly, inching closer to the chapped lips he loved.

The sound of something breaking, however, shattered the moment.

"Fuck!" a voice cried from the kitchen.

"Damn it, Gabriel," muttered Dean, catching his husband's amused look. "He's worse than a child, I swear."

"Perhaps," drawled the blue-eyed man, "but you'll grow to love him. I'm certain of it."

He shook his head, turning away. Not fucking likely.

They both headed out of their room to see what sort of mayhem the older Novak had caused this time. They found Gabriel at the sink with his back to them, water rushing out of the faucet.

"All right. What'd you break, asshole?" grunted the green-eyed man, approaching the wavy-haired man whose hair was fluffing more and more as it air-dried.

"A glass," Gabriel answered back, his voice oddly stilted somehow, as he didn't turn around to greet them. "I'll replace it, though."

"Damn right you'll replace it."

"Dean!" Cas hissed at his side with a mild glare.

The second he reached the older Novak's side, he felt his gut clench in horror. "What the fuck, dude!" Dean's eyes widened before he snapped his fingers towards the linen closet, thankful that Cas had sprinted off to get some clean towels without a question. His hand reached forward, grabbing the other man's wrist to steady it. He could see at least four large chunks of glass embedded in Gabriel's palm, but it was hard to see through the startling mess of his badly bleeding hand. He moved the man's hand further under the running water, gently plucking with kitchen tongs out the glass shards and tossing them onto the counter. "You're going to need stitches probably," he mumbled, focused on his task.

"Yeah" was the whispered reply.

When Dean gently removed the last shard, he sighed audibly and glanced at the older man. There was that damn look again. It didn't sit right with him. It didn't belong on Gabriel's face at all. It was . . . unnatural and unsettling. When he saw a towel be thrust in their direction a moment later, he wordlessly grabbed it and wrapped it tight around the man's hand, bringing the man's arm up to stop the bleeding.

"All right. I'll get Baby, and we'll head—"

"Do you have any superglue instead?" Gabriel interjected quietly.

"What?"

"Superglue," his brother-in-law repeated calmly, meeting Dean's look.

"Yeah, just a second," Cas said, moving off to open their junk drawer.

"No sense in heading to the hospital and bothering them right now, you know?" he remarked with a faint shrug. "Not when I know superglue works just the same."

Dean scoffed and inclined his head. Yeah. It was more the route of Neanderthals in some people's minds, but he knew from growing up and spending the better part of his childhood in his dad's auto shop that superglue worked pretty much the same in closing wounds. He just wouldn't have thought that his brother-in-law would have been all right with it. The more he knew, he guessed.

The two slowly headed over to the dining room table then, Gabriel sitting down and holding his wrapped hand out with a wince. When Cas rejoined them soon after, Dean stepped back, recognizing the look in the fierce blue eyes.

"Oh, brother, what did you do?"

"Sorry, Cassie," replied the older brother with a ghostly somber smile. He hissed when Cas slowly started to unravel the already blood-soaked towel.

Dean caught the sharp look his husband gave his brother before the big brother glanced down in shame and remained silent. They were always a mystery to him. He and Sammy were close, sure, but not like this. He hooked his thumbs in his pockets and silently watched them more, wondering idly if he'd ever learn the whole story of what the brothers had gone through. He had tried to get Cas to open up about his family occasionally, but his husband would usually change the subject after a bit. Whatever it was that the brothers had gone through, it was clearly traumatic as fuck.

When he heard a phone vibrating nearby, he turned around and saw his screen light up from where it was plugged in on the kitchen counter. Knowing the brothers likely needed a moment alone, he reached for his cell and walked off into another room.

"Hey, everything okay?" he asked, answering the call. It was rare for him to get a call this early.

" _Yes, Dad,"_ the young woman said through soft laughter. _"Everything's fine. I just—well, they're cancelling in-person classes, so I'm giving you a warning bark."_

Dean's eyes narrowed before he blinked for several minutes as his mind processed this. A warning bark? "So, what does that mean exactly?"

" _It means your kids are coming home, old man, so put on some damn pants for once,"_ she retorted with a snort.

"What?" he choked out, his mind and heart fighting one another. The words repeating in his head quite frequently were 'Yay' and 'Son of a bitch.'

" _Yeah, I know. We're cramping your style. Trust me. We'd much rather be at college than be with you two, but what can you do?"_

" _What's he saying?"_ a younger voice—his son—asked from the other line.

" _Nothing currently, little bro. Sounds like he's having a stroke or something."_

"Ha-ha," Dean grumped, his mind fully resetting before he glanced at his kids' empty rooms. They had gone from him and Cas to him, Cas, and Sam to him, Cas, Sam, Gabriel, and now the kids. Did none of them understand how social distancing worked? "Answer me this. Why can't you two stay in the dorms?" Not that he didn't want to see his kids of course, because he did. He just was looking at it logistically speaking. That would be a fuck ton of people in the house on top of each other. In the middle of a literal pandemic. And they were coming from all over the country to his house.

" _I'm sorry,"_ she scoffed sarcastically. _"Have you ever been inside a college dorm? These people are filthy animals. Yeah, no. I would much rather be at home with my bi, clean-freak, strict dads than to be here with these idiots."_

"I don't know whether to be happy about that or insulted by it, Claire Bear."

" _Good. Then I did it right,"_ she remarked with an obvious wide smile. _"Anyway, Jack and I'll be home sometime tomorrow probably. We still have to pack up our stuff, so you got one more night to yourselves."_

Dean rolled his eyes. "Then I guess your sexy dad and I'll have to—"

" _Whatever, old man!"_ she sighed dramatically in a rather bored tone. _"Just don't break a hip."_

A quiet beep, beep then alerted him to the fact that she had ended their call. He huffed and shook his head. She clearly had gotten her sass from Cas. He walked back into the kitchen then, noticing his husband's deep frown at whatever Gabriel was mumbling.

"All right, so"—Dean held up his phone—"that was the kids."

"Are they all right?" his husband asked, his head jerking upwards in worry.

"Yeah. They sounded fine." He shrugged back. "I guess their university is kicking them out over this Coronavirus crap, and they decided we were their best option of survival over their friends." He heard his brother-in-law's quiet snort and glanced at the man before he returned to his husband. "So, instead of four people, now we got six."

"Four?" Gabriel questioned, glancing between them. "Who else is coming?"

"My brother Sam," Dean stated, leaning his hip against the counter before he crossed his arms. "He lives out in New York, and with everything going on out there, I'd rather have him here."

"Sam?" repeated the man with wide amber eyes. "Oh." His eyes darted to the kitchen table. "I should, um." His voice trailed off before he stood up and turned towards Cas. "Thanks for the offer, little bro, but I'll . . . it's fine."

Green eyes glanced upwards. "Just sit down, will you? I'm not rescinding the offer. You can stay. There's just going to be some ground rules, all right?" He frowned when he caught Gabriel's head snapping to Cas in fear. Maybe this time isolating with the two brothers would help him finally solve the damn mystery with them.

"Dean, you don't need to—"

"No, I don't," he agreed, meeting the amber eyes. "But you're family, asshole. So, sit down and shut up. Or, God help me, I'll handcuff you to a damn chair and cover your mouth with duct tape." He watched his brother-in-law stare at him for a few moments, clearly debating if it was worth it to stay or not, before Cas gently rested a hand atop of his arm and Gabriel sat back down. "Rule number one, no leaving the house. That means no sneaking out to some bar to screw some chick or guy or whatever you're into these days. Your ass is to be in this house every single day of every single hour unless we as a family unit go for a walk or drive or whatever." He pointed at him. "I won't have you risking your niece and nephew's lives, and my brother's for that matter, all because you can't sit still for a bit."

"I understand."

"Good. Rule number two, no messing with us with your stupid tricks. I'm going to have sensitive material in the house because of my job, and if you go anywhere near it, I will arrest you for it."

Gabriel's eyes meandered over to his little brother. The corner of his lips twitched slightly.

"Rule three, no ordering or watching porn or whatever in clear view of the kids."

"Absolutely no fun should ever happen here. Got it," his brother-in-law joked, his lip twitching more to hold back his laughter.

"Gabriel," he growled. "I mean it. I will not have you subject the kids to your—"

"But you and Cassie can still eye-fuck in front of us, right? Like, that's still okay?" dryly remarked the older Novak. "Or do these rules not apply to you?"

Dean clenched his jaw and glared. The urge to punch the childish dick was seriously high right then. He then exhaled loudly, trying to push out all of his irritation to calm himself again. The damn asshole was doing this to rile him up just like every other fucking time they've ever met. They seriously brought the worst out in one another.

"They apply to everyone living under this roof, Gabriel. So, don't go thinking you're anything special because you're fucking not." Within seconds, he caught both Novaks flinch violently and glanced between them, feeling his gut clench when he saw Cas's haunted look. He made a note never to say that particular phrase again since it seemed to inflict serious pain to the brothers. Seriously, what the fuck kind of hell did they live through exactly?

"Are there any more rules I'm to adhere to?" the man asked quietly, his rare seriousness returning as his eyes dulled back into the withdrawn look again.

"Just please try to be considerate, okay? That's all I ask," Dean replied with a sigh. "If you can do that, then we'll be peachy."

"All right. Fair enough," Gabriel stated respectfully, inclining his head. "I'll try."

"Good." Dean then ran his fingers through his spiky hair, guilt twisting his insides as he noticed his brother-in-law was still wearing damp clothes. "You should go take a shower or something, and get out of those damn clothes." The second he said the words, he caught the instant shift in the man's eyes. His stomach dropped in response. Oh shit.

The golden-wavy haired man, though, didn't take the bait this time for some reason and stood back up. "Which way is the shower then, bucko?"

Dean motioned to his left vaguely. "At the end."

"Thanks." Gabriel walked over to his suitcase a moment later, bending down to open it and grab some things before he headed off in that direction.

The second the bathroom door closed, Dean groaned, letting his head fall forward. "Cas . . ." he murmured, sighing when he felt his husband's arms pull him into a hug. "Why does he always have to act like a damn teenager around me?"

His husband chuckled quietly, pressing a simple kiss to his slight stubbled cheek. "You two constantly push each other's buttons to see who will explode first. And, well, I believe I saw some childish behavior on your part as well. Eventually, you'll see that my brother isn't the enemy here." He then thought on it for a moment. "At least not that particular brother of mine."

"Am I ever going to meet the rest of them?" he asked quietly.

"No." Cas's body tensed briefly before he perceptibly forced himself to relax. "There's a reason Gabriel and I have nothing to do with our family, Dean."

"I know," he mumbled. "I just wish you trusted me enough to know what that reason was, angel," he admitted softly, gently brushing back his husband's messy black locks.

Vibrant baby blue eyes flicked to the deep lush green. "It's not a matter of trust," Cas quietly murmured before he leaned up and brushed his lips over his husband's. He then pulled back a beat later and sighed. "It's a matter of keeping you safe." He then turned away to step back.

"You realize I'm a trained FBI agent, right?" Dean remarked with a raised brow. "That I have a shit load of firearm, hand-to-hand combat, and other training and expertise? That I'm practically a fucking kickass ninja?"

Cas snorted in response, his lips turned upwards in a wry smirk. "Oh, really?"

"Yep. So, I don't need you to keep me safe." He yelped a second later when his arm suddenly was twisted behind his back, and he was roughly slammed down against the dining room table, his husband's weight pressed firmly atop of him bending him over it. Well, fuck.

"Then why is it that your husband, an academic and nerd by all rights, can do this to my so-called 'fucking kickass ninja' husband, hmm?" Cas breathed darkly into his ear.

Dean let out a low groan, feeling the warmth pool deep in his belly. Fuck. If Cas kept this up—he swallowed back those thoughts quickly, trying to brush past the initial lust that had resulted. But, damn, did he love this animalistic side to the dorky man sometimes.

"Simple," he stuttered out, shivering against the delicious friction. God, what he would do to be fucked against this table right then. "You're a kickass ninja too." He felt his husband's quiet laugh.

"Not exactly." A gentle kiss then was pressed against his temple. "Just, please, Dean. Trust me. Someday I'll be able to tell you. Just not today." He then released him, standing back up and brushing a hand down his clothes as if nothing had happened.

Dean, however, was still presenting his ass, as if still pressed firmly against their table. The second he heard a door opening, though, he shot back up, hissing when a muscle in his back protested. When the hell had he gotten so old? He glanced to his left, noticing Cas had moved to the counter to work on the promised hot chocolate. At the footfalls quickly approaching, he bit back his flicker of irritation and quickly readjusted himself to hide his slight bulge. To be continued . . . again.

* * *

Dinner was a quiet affair. Gabriel was keeping to himself again. And Cas was clearly in his own mind without a care in the world. Dean, however, was picking at his food, wondering what he had done this time to garner that particular reaction from them. He had apologized numerous times about earlier.

"Steak, okay?" he asked, hoping to break the silence. He frowned when his husband's fork clattered onto his plate in surprise.

"Yeah, it's, it's good," answered Gabriel with a forced smile before he returned to his glass of wine and glanced away again.

Dean turned towards the silent blue-eyed man and waited for the usual reply. When after a few more minutes ticked by and nothing was said, he sighed heavily.

"All right. What's going on?" He glanced at both of them. "What am I missing?"

"What?" Cas's brilliant blues darted to him.

"You heard me." He gently set down his fork. "Clearly I committed some horrible sin by choosing steak or I don't know. But you're both acting like I'm killing you with this dinner, guys."

Gabriel huffed a gentle laugh. "Hardly."

"Okay . . . you want to elaborate at all here?"

Amber eyes darted to him before they slowly meandered over to the younger Novak.

"Nothing to say," Gabriel replied a moment later with a shrug, making a show of leaning back as if he was perfectly relaxed and content.

Dean could see right through that bullshit, though. Both Novaks were on guard for some reason.

"All right. New rule." He glared when Gabriel groaned instantly. "Since we're going to be living in close quarters for an indefinite amount of time, I need to know whatever this is, so I don't continue ending up walking across the proverbial landmine that you two have around you."

"There's no landmine," Gabriel argued.

"Oh, agree to disagree vehemently on that one," Dean quipped, leaning back with his own crossed arms. "So, please. All right. I get that something happened. Some traumatic—"

"Yeah, no, um, this is where I'm out." His brother-in-law stood up instantly, grabbing his plate of food and glass of wine. "Thanks for dinner."

Dean watched him head towards the guest room and glanced upwards. He then tilted his head to meet Cas's somber look.

"Is it so wrong of me to want to know?" he asked quietly. "That's all I'm asking. Is it?"

"No."

"Then why is it every time I bring it up with you or now with him, you two act like I'm in the wrong?" He sighed heavily. "I'm trying not to end up upsetting you two accidentally. We've already seen that I have a stupid brand of luck when it comes to it."

Cas gently patted his hand with a loving smile. "He knows, just as I do, that you don't mean to do it on purpose. You couldn't possibly know."

"All right. Well, that's all fine and dandy, but I need to know at least things not to say."

His husband forced a laugh and shook his head. "Trust me. If I had a cheat sheet, Dean, I'd have given it to you long ago. I'm still learning my own triggers."

"Whatever happened to you guys, like, whatever it was, if we're going to survive this and not kill one another, I'm going to need some map or whatever. Because otherwise if we keep pushing it off, some day one of us is going to snap. I'm just asking that you—please, all right? Help me out here."

He watched the baby blues soften and slip away silently. He just wished he could at least know something. He was hating the whole atmosphere they were developing. The world was already ripping apart at the seams. It didn't need to do the same in their house too.

"I don't know what it was about this for him, but for me, I was thinking about earlier and forcing you against the table as I did. That was what I was thinking so morosely."

Dean nodded slowly. "You know I don't mind when you manhandle me, right? That I trust you." When he caught the bright azure eyes, he felt a brief, irrational flicker of fear at the coldness he saw reflected in them.

"You shouldn't."

"Cas—"

"You mentioned earlier my ability to subdue you so easily had to be because I had to be a ninja too." He drew in a slow breath evenly, almost prescriptively in its way. "Do you recall when we first met one another?"

"Yeah. Course I do." It had been one of those meetings where one couldn't honestly forget it because it was so rom-com funny in a stupid serious way. "I was on a case in Illinois." A serial killer if he remembered correctly.

"And?"

"And _what_?" Dean's brows knit together before he shrugged indifferently. "I mean, if you want me to apologize for shooting you in the shoulder again, I'm sorry. But in my defense, I did identify myself as FBI to you. You kept approaching, though, ignoring my orders. How was I supposed to know you didn't mean any harm?" His husband snorted ironically. "What?"

"You honestly never thought to ask the question of what I was doing there in the first place?"

"Well, you were a lab tech or whatever. And there was a dead body. What's more to consider?"

Cas smiled faintly and shook his head. "Remain here."

"Um, well, not sure where else I would go exactly." He watched him leave the room and chewed his lip in thought. Was Cas not a lab tech at the time then? But that didn't make sense. Why would his boss have told him that story at the hospital if it weren't true? Unless she didn't know. Dean's heart dropped as his mind supplied various other what-if reasons. Each answer became seemingly darker until he finally blurted out when Cas finally returned a few minutes later, "Tell me you're not a serial killer."

"What?" His husband chuckled. "No, Dean. I'm not a serial killer." He then held out a familiar small black leather-bound item.

The emerald eyes grew exponentially before he hesitantly grabbed and opened it. His mouth dropped. "Wait. What?" He glanced back at the badge and swallowed. "You're, but, _what_?!" He looked back at it, utterly flabbergasted. "But it was _my_ case!"

"I'm aware."

"Then why the hell were you anywhere near—dude, what the hell?!" He stared at him and then looked back at the badge. He'd disregard the whole lying for eleven years for now. They'd circle back to that shortly. His immediate issue right then was the fact that it appeared that his husband had been trying to poach his fucking case at the time.

"I was there on behalf of my boss to guide you along and assist you as a sort of inter-agency cooperation. In reality, though, it was a protective assignment for me." He pushed forward, brushing off Dean's growing outrage. "We had learned through back channels that your name was on a hit list, and your boss at hearing this asked mine for a favor. The fact that you shot me, however, ruined any chance of being under my protection so you ended up under my partner's instead."

"So, you were a US marshal?" This dorky dude who preached meditation and new age yoga shit all the time had been a fucking fed like him? Seriously?

"Yes."

"And I'm learning this now, eleven years _after_ meeting you, five years _after_ marrying you?" Dean scoffed, standing up and tossing the badge onto the table. "Were you _ever_ going to tell me?"

"I'm telling you now."

"Again, I reiterate, eleven years _after_ we met, five years _after_ we married!" he growled. He then pointed towards the guest room where Gabriel was. "Does he know?"

"Yes." Cas then sighed. "He's the one who encouraged me to apply in the first place."

"You're fucking with me now, aren't you?"

"Dean—"

"You lied to me for years, Cas!"

"Technically, I didn't. Because we never discussed it."

Dean's eyes flashed murderously as he took a step towards him. "Fine. Whatever. Why you tellin' me this all now?" He then glared harder. "Eleven years _after_ I shot your stupid ass."

"I'm telling you now because I haven't thought about any of that until now. As you so eloquently put, you shot me. I was discharged due to my injuries, and I left the service behind, choosing you, Dean, over duty. And I'd do it all again."

"Awesome." He scoffed, shaking his head as he turned away. He was so pissed right then.

"Dean, I joined to protect people from assholes like my family. That's why I'm telling you this." He then sighed heavily. "Yes, I know I should have told you long before now. But after a while, I honestly didn't see the point."

"The point is that you shouldn't hide shit from someone you love, Cas!" He then sighed heavily, pressing his palms hard onto the edge of the counter. His whole body vibrated in anger. They'd get past it. Somehow. They usually did. But that didn't mean he wouldn't be fucking pissed about it for a few months. He scoffed, shaking his head. "That's why you were so calm with the kids when I was taken a few years back. Because you knew . . . God, Cas. I can't . . ." He glanced away and worked his jaw back and forth in irritation.

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I bet you are," he scoffed. "Any other family members I should know about that I might run across on cases?"

"Yes."

Dean motioned for him to continue. "Well, come on, angel. Don't be shy now."

"My oldest brother, Michael, is an intelligence officer."

"You're shitting me."

"No. However, I haven't seen him since he joined. I like to imagine that he's still out there somewhere, but we can't be sure."

"And your other siblings?" He could remember hearing a whisper of them every now and then.

"Raphael is at Fort Leavenworth awaiting execution last I heard. And Lucifer is . . ." His voice trailed off. "Somewhere out there in the world unfortunately. Just like my father is."

"Anyone else?"

"No. I mean, I have an old partner named Hannah, but I haven't seen her in decades. And you've met Balthazar."

"Your gay best friend?" His eyes narrowed immediately at Cas's wince. Oh hell no. "Spill it. Who is he really?"

"My former partner with the marshals. He was the one ultimately tasked with protecting you."

"Wonderful." Dean groaned, letting his head fall forward against his chest. "Next you're going to tell me our neighbor isn't a priest."

"Well, he's not," Cas replied quietly. "He's a former Black Ops soldier from what I've learned."

Yeah, Dean supposed he could believe that. The man did seem a bit more buff than a priest would ever be. He then pointed back towards the guest room again. "What's he? CIA? NSA?"

"Gabriel?"

"Yes, Cas, _Gabriel_ ," he stated coldly. "What agency does he belong to?"

"None of them. He really is a porn director out in Hollywood. Has been for decades."

He nodded back jerkily. He considered all this new information for a few moments, noticing that Cas was waiting patiently for him to digest it all. If he had to think on it, this was probably the most he had ever learned about Cas's family and his past in probably ever. He couldn't disregard that at least. It was a start. And it did help lessen the initial blow of finding out that the man he had married had been lying all these years.

"So, those projects you're working on in your office, what are they really?"

The blue eyes fell sullenly.

"Cas, please," he pleaded, hating the fact that his words had such a strong reaction like that.

"It's about my brother." Cas then clarified with a heavy sigh, "Lucifer that is."

"What about him?"

"I think he's murdered at least a dozen or more people in the past twenty years."

" . . . what?" Dean stared at him, his mouth slightly open.

"Do you see now why I didn't want to tell you about my family?"

He waved that off, focusing on the rest of what he had said. "Why do you think he's a killer?"

"Because Luci used to get off on it," a voice rumbled quietly behind him a second later. Gabriel had returned. "He'd brag about how he'd kill us, how no one would ever find our bodies, how he had done it before with no one having figured it out." A heavy sigh then echoed through the quiet house as his brother-in-law headed back to join them, setting his dirty plate in the sink. "You should just let that particular ghost of our past go, little brother. It's not worth it."

Dean glanced between the brothers. "Did you ever tell anyone?"

"Oh, lots of times," Gabriel remarked bitterly, speaking for Cas again. "We told everyone we knew at some point." He shrugged. "Didn't matter, though. We were the misfits of the family." He plopped himself down into one of the kitchen chairs and stretched out lazily. "So, the day I turned fifteen, I decided enough was enough. I was getting us out of there once and for all."

Dean glanced at his husband and saw the blank look again. He knew from experience it meant Cas was trying hard not to express his emotions for some reason. It had taken him years to break through his husband's stoicism and figure out the small nuances.

"I got up early that morning," Gabriel explained, "and begged Dad to let me take his car out on a road trip, promising I'd take Cassie with me. That way he could work on whatever shitty novel he was writing and not be interrupted by us all weekend. He handed me the keys and didn't even bother so much as to glance at me, let alone acknowledge my presence even. Because _deadlines_. So, Cassie and I took off on the open road, running away and escaping that particular nightmare." He chuckled darkly. "I think I wrecked that car about ten hours later. Sent it flying off a damn cliff somewhere out in bumfuck nowhere. We hitched rides after that with truckers until I got us out to California. And the rest you can say is history." He grinned, the jovialness not quite reaching his eyes.

"So, wait," Dean glanced at his husband, "your dad thinks you're both dead?"

"Probably, yeah," Cas replied with a shrug.

"Yep," Gabriel concurred. "In fact, as far as the rest of the world is concerned, Gavriel and Cassiel Shurley died in a tragic fiery car crash."

Dean glanced towards his husband and then to his brother-in-law. "How did you—someone at the marshals would have figured it out during the background check. They would have noticed the inconsistencies at the very least."

Gabriel's grin this time did reach his eyes. "Yeah. Probably. But what can I say? I'm resourceful, and I know how to play the system, Dean-o." He was proud of himself clearly. "It took a bit, longer than I wanted it to, but eventually I found him." He shrugged lightly. "Frank Devereaux, the go-to expert in creating new identities and backstops. You name it. I found him through some contacts who had used him. They all claimed he was the absolute best. That he was used by the government and others. I was fifteen, so I thought 'Why not?" He waved his hand vaguely. "Took about . . . four or five months before I had enough cash for it, but the second I had the money, he created them for us. When I got picked up the first time by the cops," he laughed darkly, "I nearly died when they ran me in their system. I was so sure that they'd find out the truth and it'd be all over. That Gavriel would pop. But it didn't. Instead, it came back to Gabriel Novak, 15, from Long Beach, California, a ward of the state. Cassie and I went to the pier to celebrate once DCFS busted me out and naturally we ran. We were free."

"Weren't you worried someone would figure it out eventually?"

"Maybe the first three times I got detained, sure, but not after that." His brother-in-law leaned forward. "You see, Frank, he was smart. I had told him our story. At least to a point that is. So, he ended up taking pity on us poor abused Shurley boys. Which means when he did our new identities, he added a little bit redundancy to it to make sure that we never had to go back to Dad. Frank basically put us into the witness protection program. So every time law enforcement ran us, it'd pop with some blurb stating how we were two orphan boys placed into the program after our family had been tragically murdered by some unknown assailant connected to some redacted case. As long as we kept our mouths shut, no one knew differently. And it wasn't like DCFS gave two fucks about us really and bothered checking their files to see any patterns."

Dean closed his eyes. It explained so much as to why Cas never wanted to talk about his past. Holy fuck, the things they had to have gone through. And he was positive this wasn't all of it either. But it was so much more than what he had thought, so much worse.

"I made sure Cassie went to school, though, kept his nose clean, and I worked odd jobs and did some stuff I'm not proud of just to make sure we had money to eat." Gabriel forced another dark, mirthless laugh. "We lived on the streets for, hell, a year and half, I think, before I finally managed to get us off it. I mean, don't get me wrong. We really did try the foster care route initially, but our experiences weren't the fluffy Lifetime bullshit ones. Our first foster family didn't give a damn about the kids in their care, just the money. And our second ones were lovely people really, but they had their hands full with all the others they had. After the fourth one was a goddamn pedophile freak. I wasn't going to subject my little brother to it, so we made it on our own. And I kept him safe the best I could."

Dean nodded slowly, keeping his eyes down out of guilt. God, what did one say after learning any of this?

"And look at him now. Got a sweet life of his own." Gabriel forced his smile before he leaned forward and smacked Cas in the knee playfully. "I did pretty good with you, didn't I, kiddo?" He then laughed quietly. "Not so bad for being a screw-up like always, am I?"

"Brother," Cas rebuked with a pained look.

At the sound of the neighbors' dogs suddenly barking outside, their attention veered from that lovely conversation to the front door. A shadowy figure reflected through the hazy glass of the door before there was a hard thump against the door followed by a groaned "Goddamn it!"

Dean relaxed at hearing his younger brother's voice and casually strode across the house, throwing the front door wide open a moment later. His brother was bent over picking something up from the ground, his wallet it seemed. Some things never changed.

"Don't tell me you lost your shoe again, bitch," the older Winchester drawled with a wide grin, chuckling when he saw Sam jump in surprise.

"Ha, ha, jerk," the younger grumbled, straightening back up before he quickly thrust his wallet back into his pocket and threw his arms around Dean. They patted each other exactly twice before Sam grabbed his bag again and stepped into the house.

_Thud._

"Dude!" Dean huffed, glaring at him. "Easy with the floor, will you? Shit's harder to clean if there's dents in it."

"Sorry," the tall man said absentmindedly before he stepped away from his bag, which was still left at the front door in the way. "Gabriel?"

Amber eyes jerked up instantly at hearing his name. "Uh, yeah?" He then cleared his throat and stood up, his eyes making sure not to meet the ever-changing hazel whatsoever. "Oh. Sorry. I'm, uh, well, I'm crashing the bro party."

"Wow." Sam then laughed nervously, nodding slowly. He glanced briefly towards the blue-eyed Novak who was looking at both of them strangely as Cas moved to stand next to Dean. "Hey, Cas." But then the hazel eyes locked back on the shorter man with slightly wavy dark golden hair. "I didn't think you'd—huh." He shrugged coolly. "Guess I owe your brother some money after all."

"What?" Gabriel and Dean both whirled on Cas, who instantly hid his blue eyes and scrunched his face up in an obvious sign of guilt.

"Wait. Hold up!" shouted Dean. "You knew he was coming?!"

"Course not," Sam scoffed, giving his brother one of his famous bitchfaces. "But I assumed he'd at least offer it, considering."

"Considering what?"

The towering, shaggy-haired man shrugged again. "Considering how close they are. Jeez." He rolled his eyes. "Jealous much, dick?" Sam then walked seemingly towards Gabriel before veering off at the last possible moment around the small island to head to the fridge instead.

Dean's eyes narrowed at this. Why hadn't his brother just walked around the wall closest to the fridge instead? It was less steps. He then glanced towards Gabriel in confusion when he caught him drop back onto his vacant kitchen seat hard before he quickly turned away. Dean was missing something obviously between Sam and Gabriel, but he didn't have a clue what it could possibly be. The only time he could ever recall the two meeting was around the wedding. And that was only because Cas had naturally chosen his brother as his best man, and Dean likewise had chosen Sam as his. Both Gabriel and Sam, therefore, had to work closely with one another. Or at least they were supposed to have. They dropped the ball a lot during that time, but that was another story for another time.

"Anyway, let's get you caught up here," Dean shortly remarked as he walked around the shorter walk side of the fridge to his brother. "He's staying with us obviously. You'll naturally get the guest room. The kids called earlier and will be here sometime tomorrow. Oh, and Cas, you know, was a US marshal and lied to me about it for eleven years." His hand came down heavy against his brother's shoulder. "So, welcome to Hell, Sammy," he drawled.

"Uh, all right then." The hazel eyes with flecks of sea green currently darted over Dean to something behind him before Sam reluctantly turned back with a quiet sigh. "Am I supposed to be upset for you over that or what?"

"Did you miss the part where I said he lied about it for eleven years?" Dean repeated before he scoffed. "You know what? Nah." He threw his hands up into the air and whirled around. "It's fine. I don't even care. I don't."

Not to be outdone, the older Novak huffed an unamused laugh behind him. "You do realize you basically ended my little bro's career when you shot him, right, Dean-o? In other words, you're the reason he's no longer a marshal. But, yeah, sure, by all means, do continue to go on about that. You're clearly in the right here."

"Brother," quietly murmured Cas soon after, likely giving his brother a reproachful look based on his tone. "He's right to be angry with me. I withheld that from him."

"Among other things," added the grumpy Winchester, pursing his lips as he made it a point not to look at his husband. "You going to be okay, Sam?" He jerked his head minutely towards his brother-in-law as the deep green remained trained on his little brother.

"Um, yeah." He looked around, clearly confused by the question. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Good. I'll see you in the morning," grunted Dean, patting his brother's arm before he headed to the master bedroom. The door slammed shut behind him a moment later.

He undid his tie, practically ripping it off before he threw it across his room. Unfortunately, he never did find time to head into the office to collect his laptop and other items he'd need for working remotely. So he knew he'd have to go in for sure tomorrow and pray his boss hadn't noticed.

For fuck's sake, though, of course he knew he was the reason Cas no longer worked, save for a project here and there. That day was forever etched in his mind. He could still recall the electric blues staring at him blankly after his gun had gone off. The harsh reality pierced him deep in the gut. He had nearly retched right then as his mind raced in horror of his actions, the gunshot reverberating in his mind. He still didn't recall calling for an ambulance. Just that the EMTs showed up not long after, Dean still holding Cas—terrified to break their eye contact for even a second.

Cas was right. They never talked about it. Not really at least. Hell, at the time, Dean had been so guilt-stricken that he made a concerted effort to check on him whenever he could, much to the dismay of his boss who told him in no uncertain terms that he was to stay the fuck away from Castiel Novak if he knew what was good for him. At least now he knew why—another case closed there.

Gripping a part of his shirt, Dean yanked it out from where he had tucked it into his pants earlier. His mind continued to sift through the memories from their early years. It had been almost instantaneous like someone had flipped a switch on inside. The more he sat with Cas, the more he found himself needing to be at the man's side, longing for him. It had moved so damn quick. They had gone from hurt-and-comfort to full-on porn-without-a-plot in mere days after that. A whirlwind of love, Cas had said in their vows—and shit, if that wasn't exactly what it was. They never once talked, though. Hell, Dean never once even thought to ask what Cas did. He just assumed the dorky guy was a lab tech all these years. How the hell could he be mad over that when he never even thought to ask?

He shucked off his socks and scoffed, shaking his head. This was stupid. Beyond idiotic. He paused with his fingers on his belt buckle. What was he really upset about here? That Cas never volunteered that he was a US marshal in all their years together? Or was this another manifestation of his guilt over his actions? His head hung lower, and his eyes closed. He took a moment before he turned around and headed back out to the living room. None of them had moved since he stormed out.

"Dean?"

"Say goodnight, Cas," he quipped, gently pulling his husband back towards their bedroom.

"But it's only eight-fif—"

"Don't burn the place down, idiots," Dean called over his shoulder prior to lightly pushing Cas into their room. He quickly closed the door behind them a few seconds later. "I want to be mad at you. I so badly want to be mad at you over this. Do you understand that?" he asked with a disapproving frown.

"Yes," Cas murmured, wetting his lips before he glanced down.

"But your asshole of a brother's right." The brilliant blue jerked back upwards in surprise. "So, I can't be. Because—let's face it—I _did_ end your career."

"Dean—"

"No, babe," he murmured with another heavy sigh before he stepped into his space. "We both fucked up. Again. We need to stop with the damn secrets all the time, though. It's going to ruin the best thing that's ever happened to us if we keep it up. And I don't want that." He slowly threaded their fingers together, rubbing his thumb gently against the back of his husband's hand.

Cas smiled shyly with a quick look down before he glanced back up, his eyes completely soft with affection. "I see." He took the half-step that was somehow still between them and pressed himself firmly against him. "What do you recommend we do about this then?"

Dean inhaled deeply, snaking his arms around Cas's shoulder and his waist to pull him until they could feel one another's rapid heartbeats. "Well . . ." His smirk grew into a predatory grin as his voice trailed off, the hunter green darkening even more somehow. "That is if you believe Dr. Sexy,"—Cas snorted—"which we definitely do in this household, then there's only one thing to do."

"Oh?" rumbled his deep voice Dean affectionally called Cas's 'oozing sex timbre' sometimes. "Tell me more."

A low chuckle slipped past.

"Hasn't anyone ever taught you that the best part of fighting," Dean murmured, running his tongue over the top of his teeth, "is the mind-blowing sex afterwards, sunshine?"

* * *

Meanwhile out in the kitchen, Sam and Gabriel silently stared at one another.

"You came," Sam stated astonished after more moments of silence. "You actually came."

The amber rolled as Novak stood up from his chair with a sigh. "Yeah." He approached slowly before he paused a good foot from the Jolly Green Winchester. Just in case their brothers decided to return for some reason. "But only because I had nowhere else to go thanks to Zachariah."

"What?" he took a step towards him but stopped himself as well. "What'd he do?"

"Raised my rent. Again."

"Okay, but you're not necessarily broke," Sam pointed out. "In fact, let's be honest here. You could've gone to that fancy resort in the Alps or wherever if you wanted to. Instead, you came here." He waved away his unsaid words. "Just like I knew you would," he stated, taking that final step into his bubble. Six feet apart be damned where they were concerned clearly. He smiled down pensively, grabbing his hands. "I mean, who do you think put the idea in your brother's head in the first place?"

"What?" he breathed out with wide whiskey-colored eyes. "Why would you—"

"Two weeks with our brothers," Sam cut in sharply. "With _my_ brother," he reiterated with a firm squeeze to their hands. "Two weeks of him being stuck here in this house with us and nowhere to run. No bars. No restaurants. Hell, he can't even really go to any of those shitty stores of his."

"So, then, you're basically using me to torture your brother? Gee. Thanks."

Sam rolled his eyes and scoffed. "No." He then lowered his head to force their eyes to meet. "I'm tired of us sneaking around all the time. Of hiding our engagement." His hands clenched tighter when he caught the amber eyes widen more. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah, I mean, sure," he replied with a shrug. "Only there's a problem with your logic here. By locking us all up here together, you're going to make the odds of your brother shooting me increase exponentially. And unlike my bro, I don't really want to experience that ever thanks. Not to mention, Dean sort of hates my guts and would probably shoot to kill instead of maim."

"He's not going to shoot you."

"Want to bet?"

"Gabe—"

"I'm serious. I bet you a date on the French Riviera with all the mind-blowing sex you could ever imagine. By the end of this quarantine, your brother will have shot me."

"Fine. But he's not going to." Sam raised a brow. "Because if he were that loose of a canon, there would be no way he'd pass the necessary psych evals in order to work for the FBI. So, quit being dramatic, will you? He's not going to shoot you. I mean, he might punch you, but he won't shoot you." He rolled his eyes again and gave him a chaste kiss. "He's only ever accidentally fired once, and that was with Cas. You're going to be fine."

"Says you."

"Yes, says me," he countered. "Do you know much that messed with him mentally afterwards? He actually voluntarily went to counseling after it. Did you know?" He shrugged then. "And he did all the necessarily training again without a single bitch uttered about it. He knew he had screwed up."

"Yes, but he loves Cassie, Sam."

"And he'll learn to love you too, idiot."

He scoffed, glancing upwards. "Doubtful. He looks at me and remembers his wedding day." He then turned his attention fully onto the taller man. "Now, what do you think he'll do when he finds out that both times I was caught that day was when I was balls deep inside his sweet little brother?"

"Please. Like he and Cas haven't fucked in some seedy ass bar bathroom before," he drawled before he jerked his head towards the direction of the guest room. "Now, since we've only got tonight without the kids around, what do you say to making the best of it, Frodo?"

"But I thought you were tired of sneaking around like horny teenagers, Gandalf," mocked Gabe with a shit-eating grin, his eyes glistening in the low light. "Unless . . . wait . . . is it a kink for you?"

Sam chuckled quietly before he snorted unexpectedly. "Just get your sweet ass in there, candy man," he ordered gruffly, his hand then smacking Gabe's ass lightly.

"So demanding tonight," vibrated the older Novak, quickly whirling around before he walked them back into the guest room as he pulled him in behind. He most definitely liked this side of Sam.

"That's what you get for being on the other side of the damn country, asshole."

"Well, good thing I've got you then, dick," he retorted with a dark chuckle.

"Seriously," huffed the taller man, quickly slotting their mouths together in a searing and hungry kiss a second later as his hands instantly went to work on removing his fiancé's clothes. "Less words." The door slammed shut behind them soon after with muffled chuckles.

* * *

At the sound of something thumping against a nearby window, Gabe slowly pulled himself into consciousness. He blinked and rubbed at his eyes for half a second at the sight of an unfamiliar dark room before he scoffed in sudden understanding. Ah. That was right. He was at Cassie and Dean's.

"Well, fuck me," he murmured to himself, the exhaustion weighing heavily on him. He knew deep down that he should leave right then before he was caught with the younger Winchester, but the feeling of absolute contentment crooned to his soul. He hadn't felt this happy in three weeks by his estimate. When he and Sam were last together. When he had finally worked up the courage to propose. So, he waited for half a moment, enjoying the feeling of being in the man's arms and hearing the relaxed thump-thump of his heart beating underneath his ear.

"Technically speaking—"

Of— _fucking_ —course, he groaned silently. Of course the little shit was awake.

"Oh, hell no, don't you even start," he mumbled, rolling towards the edge to leave the warm, comfy safe haven he loved so very much.

"What?" Sam said innocently with a deep chuckle. "You're the one who—"

"Uh-huh." He swung his legs over the edge, hearing the arm flop down behind him. "With that, my bold lover, I bid you a fond adieu," he dryly remarked, quickly snatching his clothes from the floor before pushing himself up out of bed. He winced yet again when his joints popped, his muscles having contracted sharply after he had stood. He was too old for this shit clearly.

"Come on. Don't be like that, grump," Sam murmured, reaching for him. "I'm only teasing."

The sharp amber darted back to his lover who returned his stare with a lopsided grin.

"I'm old, Sam, not stupid," he quipped. "I know you were."

"Then stay." His hand gently slid back and forth enticingly over the spot Gabe had just vacated. "Please? For me?" He then did the dreaded puppy dog eyes that were next level voodoo.

"And give your brother a chance to find me in your bed? Yeah. That's a hard no for me, bucko."

"Really?" the cheeky brat replied before the amused hazel flicked downwards suggestively with a growing smirk. "Because it looks to me like a—"

"Down, boy!" remarked Gabe, a finger outstretched but a badly hidden smirk on his lips. "Not all of us are in our thirties anymore."

"No. Some of us are in our early forties," the imp teased, definitely amused with himself. He then leaned further into the bed, putting himself on full display like he was in one of Gabe's pornos. And to think just a few years ago this beautiful criminal defense lawyer blushed at any mention of sex. "You can't honestly be wanting to spend the rest of the night out there on that old lumpy couch when you could be right here, beside me, all night."

"Wanting to? No," he agreed with a shrug. "However, needing to? You bet your ass."

Sam quickly moved towards the edge of the bed. "Gabe—"

He scoffed back, running a hand through his wavy hair, though. "This shouldn't have happened." He motioned between them. "This is our brothers' home. We're guests here."

"Yeah, okay, sure, normally, I'd agree with you," Sam stated, nodding slowly. "But then, I feel inclined to point out all the times where I personally have been subjected to them fucking around at Mom and Dad's house over the years. So," he drew out with a coy smile, "objection, counselor."

Gabe snorted, rolling his eyes. God, Sam was such a nerdy dork sometimes. "All right. Fine. How about this?" He drew in a quick, deep breath. "I want to be on at least semi-friendly terms with your brother before the wedding. He's a huge part of your life—I know that—and I don't want our kids—if we decide someday to go that route and adopt like our brothers did—to wonder why their Uncle Dean doesn't come around the house to see them." He crossed his arms with a frown when he saw Sam's twisted smirk. Why the hell had he corrupted this poor innocent soul again? "What, asshole?"

"Nothing," Sam replied, holding his hands up defensively. "That's just . . . incredibly sweet."

"Yeah, well, great." He then motioned between them. "This, you and me, can't happen until after your brother's urge to kill me has lessened, all right? My life depends on it. So, I'm begging you. Please. If you care for me at all, want to spend the rest of your life with a screw-up like me, don't go acting like we're in a cheesy ass porno. Because, newsflash for you, I want my brother at my side when I marry you and your damn luscious locks, Rapunzel, and the only way that's going to happen is if I get on Dean's good side. And the only way I can get on his good side is if I—"

"Become someone else entirely for two weeks?" Sam stated sarcastically with a raised brow.

"No. Of course not," he scoffed, blowing out a puff of air that moved one of his dark golden curls slightly. "But banging his kid brother is not exactly a good way to be seen in a different light, you know? It wouldn't have worked for me at least. So, come on."

He chuckled, though. "Fine. I'll try to keep my hands to myself then." Sam then shrugged his broad shoulders before he stretched sinfully again, putting himself on full display once more. His hand slowly trailed down provocatively before the tease seemingly wrapped a hand around his cock and gave it a few soft strokes. "But just know you have a week, Gabe," he stated, his hand falling limply to his side. "Because two weeks from now, no matter what the hell shitshow we're in, I'm marrying you."

Gabe felt his heart stop with everything going silent like a horror film. "What?" What did the freakishly tall man he loved so much just say? He couldn't process anything over the loud buzzing.

"You heard me. You and I are finally going to do this. I don't care if we have to do it at the courthouse wearing silly stupid masks or what." Sam quickly sat up then. "I'm sick of lying when anyone asks if I'm with anyone. I'm tired of waiting. We've done enough of it, and, hell, these could be end times for all of us. We don't know. The scientists and researchers certainly don't fucking have a clue. So, yeah, you have a week before I tell my brother the truth finally. Before I stand in that very kitchen," he stated, pointing at the wall, "and shout to the world how much I love you."

"Oh." Amber eyes fell to the floor flatly. He dragged a hand silently across the nape of his neck. "Okay then." A week. A week to make Dean like him.

Well, it was official. He was fucked. Contracting the stupid virus was the least of his problems. At least this engagement lasted longer than his previous ones. When Sam's hands slipped into his a few moments later, his head jerked up in surprise. When had Sam moved?

"Don't worry about it. It'll be okay," his fiancé said with an encouraging, hopeful smile. "Hell, Mom and Dad can't wait. They're already planning what to send us."

"You told your parents?" he asked breathlessly, his insides clenching in horror. Oh he was deader than dead now. Dean would shoot him, sure, but the boys' parents would be the ones to hide his body—and considering that their mom was the current sheriff of Sioux Falls, he wouldn't put it past her.

"I told you. I'm tired of hiding us like we're some dirty secret. I love you, and I don't give a fuck who knows it. So, two weeks from now, hell or high water, I am marrying you, Gabriel Novak." He squeezed their hands. "Because if this time is proving anything from what we've seen thus far, it's that we have to make the most of the time we have together. So, yeah, you have a week. After that, I'm sitting our brothers down and telling them. I'm going to tell them how you came onto me in a men's bathroom at some fucking ludicrous strip club that Dean wanted to go to for his stag night. How you had read your brother's text message wrong and thought that's where Cas's was instead. How you couldn't keep your damn eyes off me—which, same. How you got so damn protective when some jackass started making some wisecrack about me. And then you know what I'm going to tell him, Gabe?"

No. He honestly didn't have a damn clue.

"I'm going to tell him how for weeks after the wedding I couldn't get you out of my mind. How I flew across the country, making up some lame excuse, just to see you again. Because unlike our idiot brothers, we weren't going to have our heads stuck so far up our asses and miss our chance to be together. I don't want to wait as long as they did to get married. I want to marry you now."

As Sam spoke, Gabe felt the corners of his lips slowly curl upwards, recalling clearly the day the tall giant had shown up on his set five years ago. The hot-headed director had gone from enraged at the freakishly good-looking man who literally stumbled into one of his shots to absolutely breathless when he realized just who that wacky waving inflatable arm flailing tube Adonis was—and the implications of what Sam's being there meant.

"You still won't tell me, will you?" he asked after a moment with a chuckle when the hazel darted to him in confusion. "How you got onto the lot in the first place. Security should have stopped you at some point. Or why are they even there then?"

Sam grinned widely and shrugged. "I may have shown them some rather incriminating and quite colorful photographs of a certain adult film director and myself."

"Huh. Maybe I'm not the bad influence here after all." He then leaned over and kissed him sweetly, holding him for a second before he sighed quietly. "Good night, Sam." He then pulled back and left wordlessly, a smile gracing his lips. He could do this. Piece of cake. How hard could it be?


	2. Under Your Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another long chapter for you, lovelies. There be smut ahead. Fair warning, the entire time I wrote this... I found myself laughing at how disgustingly cute Sam and Gabe are with one another at times. Like, oh, those silly boys. :) Thanks for reading as always, and the ones who are kudosing and leaving me comments--you rock! Stay safe, everyone.
> 
> I also created a cool banner for this fic. And if I could figure out how to get it to show up properly here, I'd have it below, but instead you just get the hyperlink to it. :)
> 
> [my banner](https://ladylanera.tumblr.com/image/620324797092708352)
> 
> Also, so sorry to Tumblr Write-It-Motherfuckers, I totally forgot to cite that I used one of their [prompts ](https://write-it-motherfuckers.tumblr.com/post/190316212054/person-a-must-you-always-wake-me-up-like-this)in this chapter. So sorry.

At the sounds of various songbirds chirping outside the next morning, Gabe slowly rolled his head against the armrest of the unforgiving couch and glanced out the large patio door that led into the backyard. The sun was just starting to peek up over the horizon in a ray of pinkish orange. He groaned when he twisted himself around to glance at the clock. It was almost 7. He semi-pushed himself up to glance over the back of the couch, half-expecting a certain tall, shaggy-haired Winchester to greet him from the table. He, therefore, was unfortunately disappointed when he saw everything undisturbed still as it had been when he went to bed.

His bare feet touched the floor a moment later as he sat up, facing the corridor that led towards the master bedroom with his hands resting against his fresh pair of moose pajama bottoms. The house was deathly quiet. He didn't like it. Not one freaking bit. Homes were meant to be full of laughter, life, and—hell, everything the Shurley household didn't have but the Novak one sure as shit did. He chewed on his bottom lip, pondering.

On one hand, he was Gabriel Novak. It had to be expected after all.

On the other, he was trying to make a good impression. Get along with the fam and all that jazz. Playing a kazoo at 7 in the morning wouldn't help with any of that he recognized.

He stood up a second later, stretched his arms to ceiling, and then moved towards where he could see the corridor that led to both sides of the house. The master bedroom lights were still off from what he could tell, meaning he saw no light reflected on the polished hardwood floors. He glanced towards the guest room next, frowning when he caught the door half open. It was practically an open invitation. He took two steps towards the room before he stopped.

Maybe he shouldn't.

But then again, he had done one good act already this morning by choosing not to wake up the entire house with noisemakers. So naturally he could have some fun now as a reward, right? And it was only Sam he was waking up, and the big oaf was long past used to his morning antics by now.

A curt nod later, he silently padded across the cool hardwood floor, quietly slipping into the guest room a few moments later. He chuckled inwardly when he caught the shaggy mop of hair sticking out from the top of the covers. He had no doubt in his mind how incredibly sexy his fiancé would look once he pushed aside the covers and revealed his love to the world again.

"Sam," he whispered, drawing his name out. Not even a twitch from what he could see. "Sam!" he repeated quicker this time, his voice still low so only the slumbering giant could hear him.

His sexy Samsquatch made some noise in response then, but otherwise didn't move.

Sighing, the lighter-haired man in his early forties crossed the room before he leaned forward across the bed, gently shaking his adorable sleeping moose. When Sam buried himself further into the blankets, though, Gabe huffed in outrage and rolled his amber eyes dramatically. All right. Operation Wake the Fiancé was a go then.

Now, he could have continued being considerate. He really could have.

It just wasn't in his nature.

At all.

Standing back up and walking a little bit from the bed, he watched his prey for a moment. He'd have to time this exactly right. His lip twitched when he heard Sam's brief loud snore before the room plunged back into utter silence again.

Really? What was he to do here but—

He rushed towards the bed a second later, launching himself up into the air when he reached the edge before he slammed down hard onto the solid body cocooned in a sea of blankets. His hand slapped hard against the younger man's mouth when the Jolly Green Winchester bolted up in absolute shock, expecting to be under attack.

"Hiya, gorgeous," Gabe purred in response to the outraged look of absolute murder directed on him from his fiancé. In return, he wore a wide grin like the little shit he was. He waited a moment or two for Sam to calm again before his hand dropped back to his side.

Hazel eyes glared back mildly. "Must you always wake me up like this?"

Gabe shrugged back. He didn't _always_ wake Sam up exactly like this. Sometimes he woke him up with much filthier ways. Indecent ways. Ways that would make all the great seducers of the world collectively blush. He honestly didn't deserve being the keeper to the wonderful soul that was Sam Winchester. In fact, when he thought back on his earlier relationships, Sam was the only one agreeable to those so-called filthy ways that were so much better than alarms honestly. In fact, more than a few times, the kinky New York lawyer showed him new and inventive ways. And, damn, did it lead to good sex at times. And, well, if he were entirely honest, he'd admit that Sam sometimes was the muse behind some of his greatest porn scenes.

"Well," he drew out with another light shrug, "if you didn't want me waking you up, you should have locked the door." Not that Sam was ever in the habit of locking his door. In fact, often, Gabe found the door usually only closed. But, if he had to be totally honest, it was a hell of a line that just stuck with the him for some reason. Maybe it was a line from a movie or something. But he liked it, so he said it.

"I did."

"Uh, no you didn't," Gabe argued before he leaned forward. He chuckled against the soft plush lips when his beautiful lumberjack met him halfway. A second later, he grunted a soft huff of indignation when he found himself suddenly wrapped up in warm blankets before the strong arms rolled them to pin him underneath Sam again. Now, he didn't mind the visual of course. He really didn't, but he did wish they didn't do so much rolling around sometimes. He wasn't in his damn twenties anymore. One of these days, he was going to find himself having an unfortunate, embarrassing freak accident that his sweet moose would lord over him till their dying days.

Sam reluctantly pulled back a second later and rested his head against Gabe's shoulder. "All right. Before we take this any further," he said through heavy pants as they both tried to calm themselves again, "I should take a shower."

"Well, now that you mention it," Gabe teased back, "you do sort of smell rather rancid." He laughed openly when he felt the playful slap to his chest.

"Fuck you."

"Nah. I'd much rather—" He grunted again when he felt a hard punch to his side this time. "Jeez, someone's violent this morning," he remarked with a smile still gracing his face. He then held up his hand that he had rewrapped last night after leaving. "I'm already injured, you know." When Sam gently grabbed his arm, he felt himself soften completely. There was the magnificent man he loved.

"Gabe," Sam breathed out, his bluish-green with flecks of gentle brown widening in sheer concern and worry, "what happened?"

Shrugging silently, he tried to play it off. Like he usually did. "I didn't know my own superhuman strength obviously," he cheekily replied, his smile not reaching his eyes. He knew his smart, and frankly way too good for him, moose of a fiancé would know what complete horseshit that was, but he had to try at least. Just in case he was wrong.

"Gabriel."

Yep, he called it. Never a good sign when the full first name was used.

The amber eyes fell back to his injured hand at hearing the light scold before he watched the gentle, long fingers slowly unwrap the gauze with so much tenderness that it hurt to watch. He shifted slightly, not liking the way his stomach twisted itself into knots as he continued to watch. Once again, the silence became too much.

"I got lost in my own head," Gabe finally admitted after a few moments. "One second I'm holding the glass to get some water, and the next it's in pieces in the sink . . . in my hand." He watched the long, soft fingers lightly run near the unmarred part of his palm. The tenderness from Sam forced more admissions to tumble out. "I was thinking how much I missed you actually." The fingers paused for a second before they continued their featherlight movement. "And how I once again proved I suck at being a functional adult. Needing to be near my little bro instead of just, you know, sucking it up and toughening it out like so many others. So, yeah, it just spiraled after that." Among other things.

Sam sighed quietly. "You don't suck at being an adult." He gave him a loving, soft smile as Gabe tilted his head upwards to look back. "You got you and your brother out of a—"

"Yeah, let's not this morning, all right?" the older man cut in sharply, glancing away as he felt his mood quickly sour. "I already had to listen to Dean and Cassie going on about that yesterday. I don't need to hear you doing it this morning too."

His fiancé reared back in surprise. "You told Dean?"

"Yeah. Not sure why, but yeah." Then again, he didn't really want to focus on the why either.

"Wow," Sam whistled.

Gabe's brows furrowed. "Wow what?"

"Just, you know, your brother hasn't even opened up about that to him, and _they're_ married."

"What?"

Now, it was Sam's turn to blink. "Wait. You didn't know?"

"Know what?" What was going on here? He honestly was so lost in this conversation. What was he supposed to know exactly? That Cas and Dean were married? But that didn't make sense. Of course he knew that. He and Sam were their best men.

"It's just it's sort of a frequent fight of theirs. Has been for years, I guess." When his eyes narrowed more, Sam continued to explain. "Anytime his past is brought up, Cas sort of shuts down, which irritates Dean to no end. My brother goes on about it for hours." He chewed on his bottom lip for half a second as he stared blankly at Gabe. "Cas seriously hasn't said anything to you about it?"

He shook his head back numbly. "No. We, uh—well, we don't really talk about things like that." Or anything really if it dealt with romance and relationships. Not because they weren't comfortable talking about such stuff. They were. Hell, Cas had been the one who had flown out at a drop of a hat and consoled Gabe after Kali broke off their engagement five days after he had proposed. Then there was the whole Daphne fiasco Cassie had gone through more than a decade back (shortly before his little bro was literally shot by the love of his life). The Daphne thing was so messed up and outrageous—and frankly still pissed Gabe off to that day. How that heinous woman was still allowed to be out in public was beyond all understanding. No. Nowadays, both brothers shied away from those discussions, likely a result of how content and happy they finally were with people who really loved them for once.

Actually, now that he thought more on it, did his bratty brother even know Gabe and Sam were together? He had noticed Cas's look between them earlier, but for once his little brother didn't seem to word vomit anything out in his usual blunt brutally honest way. Which, of course, led Gabe to believe that Cas had no idea. Nor did his little bro, it seemed, know that the man he had caught Gabe with at the wedding was Sam either. Because, without a doubt in his mind, he knew that would have been the first thing tumbling out of his brother's mouth, he was certain, if Cas knew, causing Dean to kill him.

He supposed, if he contemplated it some more, his brother's outright refusal to talk about their past would be completely understandable actually. After all, it wasn't like he really had any sense in raising his brother so why would Cas want to talk about it. The sandy-haired punk had been a stupid fifteen-year-old at the time believing he could do a better job than their asshole, neglectful father—the supposed adult—and basically kidnapped the poor kid across country for the hell of it. The only thing Gabriel ever did for his dorky brother, though, was pay attention to him. Everything else was a byproduct of survival. Hardly something to write about at the end of the day he supposed.

"Hey, stop," murmured Sam, gently reaching up to cup Gabe's face. "I know what you're thinking, and it's not that." The hazel eyes forced their gaze to meet again. "You're the only person from then he _will_ talk about. Promise."

Gabe glanced at him and then nodded jerkily a moment later, mentally walking back from the edge again. He honestly didn't know how Sam did it, but somehow his fiancé almost had a sixth sense when Gabe's mind was traveling down those dark paths it shouldn't. He wished he knew how Sam was able to see through the bullshit mask he wore. His eyes closed as he just sat there and relished another moment where he had beat the demons inside again. When he felt the fingers gently brush against his cheek, he reopened his eyes and found the captivating ones he so loved.

"Come on." The half-moose man then tossed aside their blankets, swinging his long legs over the side of the bed before he yanked him up to his feet with a smile. "I know just what you need."

The amber eyes lit up in amusement as he shook his head, gently placing his hand atop of Sam's.

"As much as I would thoroughly enjoy that, did you forget what I said last night?" The corgi-sized man pushed up onto his tiptoes, cursing the damned height difference again between them before brushing his lips over Sam's. "We can't." He sighed quietly.

"Actually, we can," argued the late thirties-aged man, wrapping his strong arms lightly around Gabe's waist. "They're going to get up about ten if we're lucky. Nine-thirty if we're not. So, we've got a few hours to ourselves. And I feel like you were saying something about a shower or something."

Gabe's body instantly reacted to the charged words. "You're insatiable." Of course he was the reason for that—or blame depending on whom one talked to really. He had clearly corrupted the poor Winchester entirely, ruined him completely. And if not completely, well, he would soon.

Sam's eyes lit up as his smirk grew. "I plead the filth, your honor."

He snorted before he paused, his head snapping back comically when he finally understood Sam's words. "Wait." He caught Sam's cheeky grin instantly. "Did you just—?" he breathed with his mouth hanging open.

"What can I say? I learned from the master." Sam then jerked his head towards the half-closed door. "I'm not asking for shower sex. I'm really not. I'm just saying you and I need a shower, and I don't want you out of my sight right now."

"Sam—"

The younger man's attitude instantly switched, as if someone had clicked it off. "Do you realize once they're up," Sam murmured, pointing in the general direction of the master bedroom, "I'm going to have to pretend again? Act like you and I only know each other because my brother married yours? Because I have." His broad shoulders raised and then lowered with a loud scoff uttered from his lips. "I thought of it for at least an hour after you left last night." He waved a hand aimlessly. "So, I mean, yeah, course I want to spend time with you, bird brain."

"Bird brain?" scoffed Gabe. "Who the hell are you calling bird brain here, Sam-moose?" He had no bite to his words, only curiosity. He wasn't no bird brain.

The almost thirty-seven-year-old beamed in glee before he kissed his nose and tousled the champagne locks lovingly. A second later, he brushed past to grab clean clothes for the day, and Gabe glared in mild annoyance in response.

"Don't do that silly little head tilt you do," remarked his love, "and I won't call you it."

"Head tilt? What head tilt?" He didn't have a head tilt. Puh-lea— _CRAP_! Gabe frowned instantly when he realized that his head was slightly skewed to the side. Skewed. Not tilted. There was a difference. And if not, there was one now.

The cheeky brat chuckled and shook his head. "Yep. You don't have a head tilt at all. My mistake." Sam grabbed two more items before he headed for the door.

Pitifully watching him walk out, the eldest Novak bit his lip as he considered his options. He really did want to get on Dean's good side. He did. And he had screwed it up royally at the wedding five years ago, so this was his unexpected second chance to get it right.

But that ass just—

"Honeysuckles," muttered Gabe under his breath before he raced after the other man. He glared back when he caught the knowing shit-eating grin as his fiancé waited naked at the bathroom door for him, propped up against the door frame with crossed arms entirely relaxed and deliciously sinful. "But I'm not getting in there with you," he declared, pointing his finger.

"All right," Sam replied, holding his hands up in obvious surrender as he stood before him.

"Because we both know—"

"I said all right," said the naked muscular embodiment of a wet dream, his grin engulfing his entire face in absolute enjoyment. His fresh clothes were set on the counter next to the tiny, white porcelain sink already. Sam leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to Gabe's cheek before he stepped into the shower, snapping the lush forest-themed shower curtain closed behind him.

At the sound of the water turning on, Gabe chewed on his bottom lip, closing the door. It took no time at all before he started to sneak glances at the curtain. What was he supposed to do here exactly? Watching sounded rather voyeuristic. Which—don't get him wrong—he had his moments where he dabbled of course, but it felt weirder now for some reason. But the curves beyond that curtain . . . the dip that trailed to his ass, the biceps that could lift him up, who in their right mind would look away?

"So, what's going on with this whole condo thing you've got going on with Zachariah anyway?"

Conversation. Oh, thank God. He visibly relaxed at it. "Um, well, he thinks he's above the law." _Like freaking usual unfortunately_ , he thought bitterly.

"Yeah, I got that," Sam quipped with a loud snort. "I mean, what reason did he give for kicking you out this time? Public indecency?"

"Ha, ha." _Dick._ "That was one time, and for the record, I didn't know about the curtains."

"Oh, I know. I remember reading all about it on TMZ." Rich, warm laughter echoed around the small, slightly cramped bathroom.

The mischievous eyes rolled, though. Of course the jerk thought that was still funny. It had been two years ago. He wasn't sure Zachariah remembered the previous day let alone years ago. But he had a feeling that the dumbass probably had forgotten since he had never heard about it again.

"If you want, I can look over your lease again and—"

"Nah. It's fine." He then tacked on quickly, "Thanks, though." As brainy and drop dead sexy as Sam was when he was in _lawyer mood_ , the Novak brother was having a hard enough of a time with just sitting there doing nothing on the closed toilet seat as the man took a shower without him. He so desperately wanted to join his fiancé. To slide his hands over those tight—

"Hey, bitch!" a male voice suddenly called out from the other side of the closed bathroom door.

Gabe flew to his feet with a gasp. What the fuck? No! This couldn't be happening. He whirled towards the only window in the room, groaning when he caught the many house plants in front of it. Really? He'd be caught because of stupid plants?

"Yeah?" Sam called back a moment later.

When the doorknob slowly turned, Gabe panicked, scrambling into the shower with his beautiful Sam-derella and yanking the curtain closed hard with a reverberating snap. All at once, the spray from the freezing jets cascaded onto him. His shoulders instinctively raised up as high as they could go as his mouth opened, drawing in a large breath. Somehow, he wasn't certain how, he managed to snap his mouth shut in time, though, biting his lip to keep from yelling out his surprise. He glared daggers at the hazel-eyed man who was trying really hard not to laugh as he glanced down utterly amused by Gabe's horrified reaction.

 _Damn it, Sam!_ Only goddamn masochists took cold showers. He'd never be warm again. He was certain of it. He'd had boozy slushies less cold than this.

Shoes quietly tapped against the floor a second later as Dean walked a few steps into the room. "Hey," he said casually, his voice gruff with a slight hint of something edged into it, "I don't suppose you've seen the sandy-haired dick this morning, have you?"

Sam paused for a moment before he took a protective step closer to where Gabe crouched down on the unforgiving tile to hide. "Gabe?" he murmured back finally, causing the poor miserable man in the soaked moose PJ bottoms to glance up and meet the loving hazel warmth.

"Unfortunately," sighed Dean, hovering near the door now it sounded like.

"He's missing?" Sam's fingers slid through the damp golden waves gently for a minute before his hand suddenly clenched around a clump of the locks and gently tugged Gabe closer. He forced a quiet laugh when Gabe fell forward into him silently with a deep glare.

"Well, he ain't on the damn couch. That's for sure. Or in the kitchen for that matter."

Sam shrugged lightly, his fingers returning to their gentle raking of Gabe's hair again.

"Who knows? Maybe he went out for a walk."

"He better not fucking have!" Dean snapped back, clearly oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the curtain. "I told him that he was to keep his goddamn ass in this house!"

"Yeah, well, it's Gabe," Sam answered with an eyeroll. "He'll show up eventually. He always does. I mean, is Cas even worried about his brother being supposedly missing?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Exactly."

"Yeah, but, Sammy, Cas wasn't exactly all that concerned about his brother screwing one of our groomsmen either."

Gabe and Sam's heads instantly snapped towards the curtain.

"What?"

"You didn't hear?" Dean scoffed. "My dear brother-in-law decided to get himself a piece—well, two pieces of ass—at my wedding. Cas caught him in the closet at the reception, but—I mean, I get it." His voice softened. "I do. Weddings are awesome for hookups. But twice? Like, what is that even? He couldn't just take the one and done like the rest of us?"

Gabe's head fell forward to rest against Sam's thigh in embarrassment. This was so beyond awkward. But he did semi-understand Dean's annoyance with him. It was a rather dick move on his part. But in his defense, Sam just looked too damn good in his suit…and—

"Maybe whoever he was with was just that good, jerk. Who knows? For that matter, who the fuck cares even?" Sam's voice was cold and growing angrier by the second. "Hell, when he gets back, you can lecture him on that and for leaving, but right now, dude, I need you to get the fuck out of here so I can finish my shower."

"Wow," Dean scoffed irritably. "What's wrong, princess? Am I interrupting your morning jerk in the shower?" he mocked with a laugh.

"Well, you're certainly not helping matters," the younger Winchester quipped, glancing down and rolling his eyes. "Now, will you get the fuck out? Please?"

"Fine," Dean huffed. "Just remember your niece and nephew are on their way home, and we're all going to be in close quarters for the foreseeable future. All right?" He didn't see Sam's exaggerated eyeroll in response. "That's all I'm saying. So, we're all going to have to—"

Sam's calloused hands slapped hard against the shower wall then, which effectively shut Dean up while it simultaneously confused the hell out of Gabe.

"Dude!"

"OUT!" Sam bellowed through a feigned strangled breath that caused Gabe to bite his lip to keep from responding.

"You got to be fucking kidding me," Dean growled. "I'm literally right here, bitch. You know what? Fine." He huffed angrily, turning away to leave likely. "Just don't slip and break your dick because I sure as shit ain't taking you to the hospital. I will leave you there in agony." A second later, the door slammed shut, causing something to fall onto the floor with a thump.

The second they were alone again, the cheeky brat grinned down widely, helping Gabe up to his feet. "I seriously thought he was never going to leave," Sam murmured with a quiet laugh. He stepped closer then until they were flush against one another. "Remember how I said earlier no shower sex?"

Gabe scoffed and shook his head. "Let me guess. You lied?"

"More like I'm not one for wasting opportunities," the hazel-eyed man drawled with a wicked grin. "What do you say?"

"I say that you need to lay off the porn, Sam."

His fiancé shrugged. "Then stop making such quality work, Gabe."

"You flatter me."

Sam chuckled quietly, lowering his head before he pressed a gentle, sweet kiss against his lips. There was a pause, and then their kiss turned into a fevered frenzy. All the maddening intimate caresses that fed the uncontrolled fire raging underneath their skin began screaming with their sudden waves of lust. The need to feel, the desire to touch every smooth expanse of skin, it was impossible to resist. Heavy pants filled the room followed by a quiet thump. Once again, Gabe found himself pressed back against the shower wall by Sam the Bodice Ripper. His groan muffled into Sam's shoulder, his hips jerking upwards to meet the electric touch. He let out a squeak when his back suddenly slipped unexpectedly against the wet tile, and he slammed hard onto the shower floor.

Glancing upwards with a finger pointing, Gabe glared at his ridiculously sexy moose. "Not a word," he grumbled, a hand rubbing his aching left ass cheek.

"Or what?" Sam murmured darkly, his beautiful bluish-green irises disappearing in obvious longing. "What will you do? Hmm?" His smirk grew in badly hidden amusement. "After all, you've already made it quite clear you're willing to make out with me, jerk off with me, but anything more and—" His voice instantly went up an octave in surprise when strong hands gripped Sam's ass and forced him closer. "Gabe?"

The kneeling man's chin tilted upwards slightly before Gabe threw in a shrug for good measure as he gave his best innocent look. "If you want a porno, well . . ." He waited as patiently as he could muster while vibrating in desire, his heart racing as he felt the familiar warmth pool low again.

Fuck! How had he gotten so lucky to find someone like Sam? Honestly. To find someone who understood him better than anyone else ever had. The second he saw Sam's frantic nod of approval, Gabe surged forward, focusing completely on his task at hand—well, mouth.

The taste of his beautiful Sam always sent a bolt through him. Musky and earthy. Delectable. Kissing the tip, Gabe sent his fiancé a saucy wink before he sank down, letting the thick cock hit the back of his throat with a gurgle, his tongue pressed to the underside.

"Gabe," Sam whimpered, his knees shaking. "Oh, fuck." His fingers ran gently through the soggy, messy, dirty sun-kissed golden waves, raking his nails against Gabe's scalp and giving a soft pull. "Please," he pleaded shakily, so close to his release already thanks to the man's expert level abilities in blowjobs.

Pulling back sharply a second later, Gabe gave an obscene lick from the bottom up of the hardened shaft, his face sloppy with spit and pre-come. When he felt Sam lightly tug his hair again, he smirked. Such impatience this morning. His eyes glanced upwards, meeting the lust blown pupils.

"Please," begged Sam, his chest heaving.

Gabe considered for half a moment torturing the poor man more, but when he saw the rare look of absolute submission and heard the soft desperation, he tossed it all out. _Oh, Sam . . ._

His mouth quickly enveloped the purple, angry leaking head once more. With his hands, Gabe twisted and stroked the heavy base in just the way he knew his sexy lawyer enjoyed. Judging by Sam's resulting stifled unintelligible noises above him, the sensations were becoming too much for his poor fiancé again. In fact, more than a few times, he had to pause with a pained wince when the long fingers grasped his golden locks tightly and tugged his head back. Thankfully, every time he paused, Sam would quickly realize why and would release him again.

He wasn't against hair pulling at all. He really wasn't. It wasn't his favorite kink of all time, but he could enjoy it occasionally. Only this morning it hurt more than being enjoyable unfortunately.

When Sam yanked his head back for yet another time, Gabe gave up entirely, recognizing his fiancé was needing more from him this morning. His hand that had been wrapped around the heavy cock slid back against the slick warmed skin to just underneath Sam's ass. Waiting, he hollowed out his cheeks, quickly steadying himself with his other. If Sam needed this, he'd gladly give it to him. He'd give him the fucking universe if he could.

It wasn't long before he felt the strong hands hesitantly drop down his face to hold him in place. Amused, he encouraged Sam with the hopes that his fiancé would take his action as his consent when his tongue lightly ran against the sensitive underside.

"Fu-uck," Sam rasped, his breath hitching as his cock twitched.

Closing his eyes, Gabe did it once more before the large hands on either side of his face promptly pushed and pulled him exactly where Sam wanted as he ruthlessly fucked Gabe's mouth. When the hard cock hit the back of his throat unexpectedly a second later, he coughed and sputtered, sending Sam over the edge instantly at the vibrations. Somehow, he managed to keep holding onto Sam, forcing himself (and failing briefly) to refocus his attention on the pulsing cock in his mouth.

The fingers flew from his hair the second Sam sent stream after stream of come down Gabe's throat, which the award-winning porn director drank greedily down as if he was dying from thirst. When the rich, musky salt waned soon, he gradually pulled off, feeling Sam's legs shake and hearing his trembling whimpers from over-stimulation.

He glanced upwards and took in the entirely wrecked man's appearance above him. God, Sam was fucking gorgeous afterwards. His tongue darted out then, licking up any droplets that had managed to leak out. When he saw Sam's eyes widen and watched his teeth rake against his bottom lip, he chuckled in response. Some days they were worse than teenagers.

"Well," Gabe whispered, his voice sounding as if he had swallowed a handful of nails, "of all the ways I thought I'd die, I'll admit that choking on your delicious cock hadn't even crossed my mind." One hand rubbed at his raw throat with a grimaced lopsided smirk, while his other briefly squeezed his painfully hard erection.

"Oh, shut it, asshole," Sam laughed, his eyes softening in concern. He said nothing when Gabe immediately waved his unease away as he stood up again. "How the hell are we going to do this? Seriously? How the hell am I going to manage to keep my hands off you for a week?" He inhaled sharply when Gabe suddenly crowded into his space.

"It's easy," he remarked, slowly turning Sam around. Once he had managed to force Sam to face the opposite wall, he started trailing hot kisses against the broad shoulders, pausing every few moments to suck and mark him. When Sam started to rock back into him, he pulled back for half a second and shoved down his drenched bottoms, a loud thump resulting, before he pressed his hard, leaking cock against Sam.

"Yeah?" His head fell back against Gabe's shoulder as Sam surrendered himself fully to the gentle torture. "I don't see how."

Gabe's brows furrowed briefly as he suddenly realized they had a slight problem. For the love of— _raspberries_! He glanced upwards and bit back a sigh. Frankly, their height difference was laughable sometimes but horribly annoying mostly. He gently tugged Sam down a bit, thankful when his fiancé bent his knees just a bit as he grabbed the wall.

"I'm going to take a scene out of one of my films, Sam, and ruin you."

He heard the correlating noise from his sexy New York lawyer and chuckled darkly, wincing again when he felt the deep ache to the back of his throat. While he knew he should probably stop and check himself out just to make sure he didn't have any real damage, he dismissed it, wanting to sink into Sam's sweet ass instead. That sounded way more fun. And it wasn't like this hadn't happened before.

"I like the sound—" A low groan swallowed the rest of Sam's words when Gabe tugged free the silver metallic plug that had kept him stretched. His long, muscular legs shook briefly before he sagged back once more against Gabe. "Please," he pleaded.

Gabe chuckled in response. "So needy this morning," he quipped before he pressed a bruising kiss where Sam's neck met his shoulder. "You need to be patient, all right?" he murmured, thankful that there was already a bottle of lube in the shower with them. Yeah, Sam _clearly_ wasn't planning for shower sex _at all_. The liar. He quickly popped open the bottle, swiftly prepping them. "All good things come to those beautiful men who wait." When Sam rocked back into him, he gave a quick warning bite to Sam's neck and growled. When his pain flared up again with the growl, he bit the inside of his cheek and paused. Fuck, his throat hurt doing that. He inhaled sharply, wincing again. Nope. He could do this. It was a mind over matter thing. "I'm doing this for your benefit, brat," he murmured, careful not to make too much sound. He was grateful that Sam seemed already lost in his lust again and wasn't noticing all the grimaces and winces.

"Don't care," the imp whined, pressing harder against Gabe. "Please."

"Please what?" He rubbed against Sam's hole teasingly. The head of his erection catching against Sam's stretched rim. Fuck, that felt so good.

"Damn it, Gabe," Sam growled, slamming his hip back against where the thick cock was poised at his entrance. "If you don't sink into me this second, asshole, I'm going to take matters into—Oh, _fuck!_ " A violent shudder ran down his body when Gabe easily slid inside. "Yes, _fucking_ , yes." He shifted again, moaning filthily.

When Gabe insisted with a firm hand to Sam's back in order to instruct him to bend a bit more, Sam grunted but complied. His large hands found the shower wall, and he groaned.

Damn, he nearly came right then at the feel of the familiar delightful warmth of Sam's ass. He inched slowly deeper inside, hearing his fiancé's growling annoyed frustrations increase. One of these days, he'd prove to Sam why it was important to go slow and how patience was key. It was for his benefit as much as it was Gabe's.

"Damn it," Sam hissed, squirming against him slightly as he tried to pull Gabe in further. "I'm not going to break, you fucking asshole," he snarked, his frustration threatening to boil over. When Gabe didn't respond right away, the brat rolled his hips, teasing him as he forced his ass to clench tighter.

Gabe paused for half a moment, feeling dazed at the sensation. He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. He could smell the sweat from them mixed with Sam's maddening shampoo. As he felt the tightness increase as he resumed his journey, he found himself battling with his lust.

" _Gabriel_ ," snarled Sam, reaching back again to pull Gabe in faster.

"Patience, my moose," he murmured back lovingly, his words horribly shaky. By his estimate, it would only require a thrust or two before he'd come apart. He needed to make them count, therefore.

Sam's hips snapped back, causing Gabe to slip deeper inside. He was nearly balls deep, which he knew from experience was something he knew drove Sam wild.

"Fuck patience," spat the NY lawyer, his fingers curling tighter around Gabe's waist. "Fuck me, you goddamn fucking asshole!" His shoulders hunched up angrily, entirely frustrated. "Fuck me!" he hissed again. "You hearin' me? I want you to fuck me!" He trembled with his words stilted and cold . . . and so damn needy and breathless and goddamn hot. "Fuck me so deep that I swear you're going to break me. Fuck me, Gabe. Please. Please, fuck—fuck me," he sobbed in suffocating want and need. He rutted back against him, crying out when Gabe pulled back in response in open rebellion. "Gabe, please!" he pleaded. "Fuck me. Drive that fucking heavenly cock of yours deep in my ass. Fuck me raw. I can take it. Please. Please, Gabriel. Please . . . Split me open. Slam your balls against my ass so hard it leaves bruises. Fuck . . . me . . . I can . . . I can take it. Please!" he cried out, desperately seeking him.

"We'll see about that," Gabe finally replied in a shaky hush. His fingers curled deep into Sam's flesh as he gripped the man's thighs.

He waited until Sam's mouth opened in the obvious display of impending anger before he slammed all the way into him. He stifled a cry when his hefty balls slapped wetly against Sam. He pulled back slowly, agonizingly, keeping his head in, before he repeated his thrust with such force that he saw Sam jerk forward towards the wall.

Huh. Who would have thought it? He was wrong earlier. He was going to last longer than he thought he would have somehow. Miracles did happen. He was quickly forgetting his sore throat.

Each time he slid deeper within, he felt his control slip more. It didn't help that the sexy sounds of reckless abandonment from Sam echoed around the shower, sitting heavy in the air around them. His body soon draped over his fiancé's, needing to feel more of their sweaty skin pressed against one another. Vaguely, he caught Sam's hands slide against the wet tile in front of them as he thrust back deep inside the fucking delicious tight hole, but he thought nothing of it.

He set the pace hard and punishing, hearing Sam's babble increase each time. They were going to be sore. That was for fucking sure. His speed quickened with each forceful jut forward. And while Sam had tried at first to match, which Gabe found—something he couldn't recall right now because— _holy fuck_ — Every time Sam managed it, Gabe swiftly altered the tempo, keeping his fucking of his babbling sweet lover unpredictable. When the noises signaled the telltale sign of Sam's impending climax, he lifted his hand up from Sam's bruised thigh and wrapped it firmly around Sam's thick cock. He squeezed the twitching hot cock firm and hard.

"Gabe," Sam cried, nearly weeping from how close he was to the edge only to be denied.

"No," he choked back with a slight hitch in his croaky voice. "Not. Yet." Each word sounded strangled as he said them. Though, considering how hard he was currently slamming in and out of Sam, he assumed that his fiancé could understand why.

"Please," Sam pleaded again, his hands slipping once more before he regained his hold. His fingers grappled, nails clipping the divots in the grout. Fuck, Sam would be lucky if he could sit after this, which was hilarious considering Gabe would be lucky if he could carry on a conversation thanks to the earlier mouth fucking.

"Payback . . . is . . . a . . . bitch," Gabe breathed hotly, his balls drawing up as his pace turned more erratic, more chaotic, more careless. Knowing this would be the last before he fell over the edge, he slammed deep within his fiancé's clenching ass so far that he could feel the muscles contracting against his balls. He stilled for a millisecond before the dam burst wide open. His hot seed pulsed out, filling and coating every inch inside of Sam who was openly weeping with need. His head fell back as he shuddered his release. The sounds of squelching filled the air as he continued shallow thrusts inside the wet, come-filled, filthy, reddened ass that was fucking his and his alone. His hand fell away from Sam's cock then, finally permitting his orgasm.

Only instead of that happening, Gabe felt himself suddenly slip out of Sam, his eyes flashing open again in confusion. Suddenly, he watched in horror as Sam's hands slipped against the wet tile and sent Sam sprawling into the tile face first. He lunged forward, desperately trying to catch him. He was too late, though, and heard the crack as a piece of tile broke off, tinging onto the floor. Sam yelped and then stumbled back in surprise. Gabe's eyes widened hearing their combined cry when they realized that they were falling backwards.

_Oh Fuck!_

Gabe's head thumped hard back against the tile. A hissed raspy 'Fuck' echoed loudly followed by two more thumps as he and Sam crashed onto the unforgiving shower floor, their legs a tangled mess beneath them. When he saw the streams of come then paint the shower wall in front of them, he burst out laughing with Sam joining in soon after as his fiancé tilted his head upwards to glance up at him. The second he saw the embarrassment, he lowered his head more, finding Sam's lips.

Not wasting any time, Gabe's right hand came up to wrap lightly around Sam's throat in a possessive manner before his tongue slipped inside the wet heat. He heard Sam's crooning back—or at least he assumed it was that. With his left hand, he snaked it around Sam's waist and found the still pulsing cock that was gradually softening. Timing it with his loving strokes, he thrust his tongue in and out, selfishly fucking his fiancé's mouth as his last act of dominance and laying claim to him. He felt Sam flop against his chest and jerk into his hand sloppily and heard the strangled crying breaths muffled against him. If this didn't sate Sam, nothing would. Oh, to feel the tremendous torture of over-stimulation like Sam was currently feeling. Lucky fucking bastard.

A knock at the door a second later forced them apart. Both were a shuddering mess on the floor.

"I'm good," Sam shouted over the running water, sounding absolutely wrecked beyond all measures. "Just . . . um . . . slipped." They waited for whoever it was to reply before shaking their heads at the countering silence. He winced sharply when Gabe probed gently with feather-light touches against Sam's lightly bleeding temple.

"We should deal with that," he quietly murmured, pulling Sam back against him fully as they came down from their bliss.

"Is it bad?" he whispered.

"No. I think we can manage it." Gabe's eyes then sharpened on his fiancé in a teasing way. "Do you know who you are?" he teased gravelly.

Sam snorted back. "Sam Winchester, your incredibly sexy lawyer fiancé, also known as your moose, your Sam-cubus, your Samshine, and your sweet innocent man you fucking ruined completely. Literally." He returned Gabe's grin.

"All valid answers." He then brushed Sam's hair to the side and hooked his chin against his shoulder. "Do you see now why we should leave shower sex to the professionals, though?"

The almost thirty-seven-year-old chuckled and nodded. "Are you okay?"

"You mean, is my dick broken?" he quipped with a knowing look. "Nah. I'm good. Just suffering a bruised ego, but, you know, what else is new." And sore hand, ass, throat, and head.

The person at the door knocked again, which caused both men to glance at the curtain.

"Cas," they both mouthed, shaking their heads.

"You're certain you're all right?" Cas called out a moment later.

"Yeah, I just slipped," Sam yelled back. "I'll be out in a few."

The pause was shorter this time. "All right. Well, breakfast is on the table."

"Understood. Thanks, Cas." Sam waited for half a moment, but they heard nothing. He glanced at Gabe. "Do you think he left?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"Who knows?" Gabe then sighed quietly. "He is right, though. We should get some food."

Sam smirked, raising a brow at him. "Oh? Is someone hungry then?"

"Positively famished," he remarked with glittering whiskey eyes. "I could eat a cow in fact."

"I thought so." Slowly, the two managed somehow to get to their feet.

Swaying slightly, though, Gabe grabbed the wall and sighed. Fuck. Everything hurt now.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

He turned towards his fiancé and flashed one of his wide cocky grins. That was rich considering Sam was the one bleeding here, not him. "Yes, Samshine." He reached up, brushing back Sam's long hair tenderly on the side opposite of the slight trickle of blood. "Sugar Daddy's just fine." He chuckled when Sam groaned and made a face. Man, this was too easy sometimes.

"Oh, fuck you, asshole."

Gabe jerked his head towards the door, feeling another wave of dizziness rush through him afterwards that he tried to ignore. That was already getting stupidly annoying. He'd have to remember to find some aspirin later. And maybe at this point some bubble wrap too wouldn't be out of the question.

"So, how exactly are we going to do this?" When he caught Sam's confusion, he snorted. "Since Dean and Cassie are probably both out there waiting to fuss over you, you know."

"I doubt that." Sam then shrugged, turning his head into the spray to wash away the blood seeping down his face. "Obviously, though, I'll go out there first, and then when it's safe, I'll give you a signal. Just act like you came in from a walk or something later."

Gabe raised a brow. "You're getting scary good at lying. You know that?"

His fiancé grinned back, quickly leaning forward before kissing him gently. He pulled back sharply a second later when things turned heated yet again. "Yeah, well, I learned from the master."

"Who?"

Sam rolled his eyes, though, lightly pushing him, before he turned off the water.

"I'll be back."

Gabe snorted before he playfully slapped Sam's ass. He watched his fiancé step out of the shower and grab a washcloth to press against his cut for a moment. "Save me some food, will you?"

"Not a chance," the brat replied with a saucy wink, yanking a towel off the rack before he proceeded to dry off and wrap it around his waist as he bent over to retrieve his clothes to dress.

When he noticed Sam pause not long after, he frowned and tilted his throbbing head.

"What's up?"

The second he caught the hunched up defensive posture, Gabe felt his anxiety ratchet up. Something was wrong. His eyes trailed over his tall moose, trying to figure out what it could be. Was Sam dizzy and lightheaded like he was? Was his head wound worse than he thought? But then why was he acting like a possessed man?

"Sam?" he murmured, his breath held after he watched his fiancé become more frantic in his search for something. "What's going on? Talk to me. Please." A chill rushed down his spine when Sam whirled around with wide eyes.

"I can't find my ring."

"What?" Gabe's eyes narrowed. He was freaking out over _that_?

"My engagement ring. I can't find it." Sam turned back again and started rifling through the wet towel and shirt left on the counter. "Goddamn it," he growled, shaking his head. "It was right fucking here. I swear."

"Sam—"

"I knew I shouldn't have taken it off."

"Hey, it's okay." He leaned out of the shower, placing a hand to Sam's lower back. "It's just a silly ring. It's fine."

"No it's not _fine_ , Gabe," he huffed back, not turning back or stopping. "So stupid. I can't—damn it! Where the hell is it?"

Stepping out of the shower fully now, he quickly wrapped Sam up in his arms, feeling him tense before his fiancé eventually melted into the loving embrace.

"It'll be okay. It will," Gabe quietly declared, slowly turning him so they were facing one another. He met the beautiful hazel. "Give me five minutes tops, and I can give you another. I've got a bag full of Ring Pops. Seriously. Name your color."

"I don't want another one," Sam grumbled stubbornly, his arms finally enclosing around him to return the hug. "I want the one you gave me at your award gala thing that night."

Gabe huffed a quiet laugh and shook his head. "If you're serious about getting married in two weeks, then you'll have a new ring soon. A better one. One that'll cost me at least ten grand easily. All right? So, quit worrying your pretty head over a silly cheap Ring Pop, will you? The wedding ring is the more important one not to lose."

"Gabe—"

"It's sweet of you to be this upset over it but so not necessary. Really. I mean, the only reason it was a Ring Pop in the first place is because it was the only ring I had with me that night. If I had planned any of it that night, trust me, you'd have had a proper engagement ring. But, please, stop. It's fine. Really. It's not the ring that matters. That's just a stupid material thing that—"

"That's a symbol of our love," he argued sharply. "And I fucking lost it."

"Oh, Sam," he mumbled, giving his self-degrading fiancé his softest look. "Listen to me, will you, you big, gorgeous oaf? If you need that representation, that visual symbol of our bond, well . . ." He shrugged flippantly. "Take a look in the mirror." His fingers lightly ghosted over one of the marred bruised marks to Sam's lower neck. Thankfully, Sam's shirt would hide it from others later. "These are much more affirming, much more possessive, much more 'Back off, bitch, he's fucking mine' than a ring is." He caught Sam's lips twitch slightly as his fiancé fought back a smile. "And you have so many more of these marks, so many of these painted against your sinful flesh. So, make no mistake, all right? Or do I need to remind you yet again?"

"No."

Gabe instantly exaggerated a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank god. I don't think I have the energy for another. Hell, I'm going to need at least a week off after this."

Sam snickered, shaking his head with a grin. "You know," he drawled, his eyes sparkling in humor as he pulled back to finish dressing, "they make these things nowadays for people suffering from low T. Just saying."

"Oh, shut up!" He lightly shoved Sam with a scoff. When he saw the grey shirt cover the marks a moment later, he sighed inwardly, feeling the slight silly pull of solemnity at the loss.

"You want me to save you bacon or sausage?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?" Gabe scoffed, crossing his arms. "Bacon." He shook his head. "For fuck's sake, Sam. And you're the one I'm supposedly getting married to?" His grin burst free as did his silent laugh. "By the way, could you go outside and get me a cloud too while you're at it?"

Sam shrugged back. "Only if you take me to munchkin land someday, short stuff."

"Oh, someone's itching to get punished later." His eyes twinkled with laughter and happiness. God, he loved Sam. There would be no other after him. He relished their moments together like this, the banter and love. When he felt Sam's chaste kiss to his cheek a second later, he quickly turned his head, catching his lips soon after. He smiled warmly against Sam, melting into him and surrendering to the fluff completely. Oh, he never wanted this to end. Never.

"I should go," Sam murmured, pressing their foreheads together lightly. "Before they storm the bathroom." He reluctantly pulled back and offered him an amused smile. "I love you."

He couldn't hold in the joke. He really couldn't. He was a complete and utter piece of shit sometimes. "If you really loved me, you wouldn't have lost your engagement ring," Gabe remarked, snickering when Sam instantly slapped his chest hard.

"Fuck off, asshole." His Jolly Green Giant then turned away and slipped out of the room, leaving Gabe all alone again in the silence and his repeating intruding dark thoughts.

_Well, shit._

* * *

Still grinning widely and feeling drunk on love, Sam strode down the corridor barefoot. He turned the corner half-expecting to see his brother and Cas sitting at the table with matching looks. Only when he did, he found Cas sitting alone, reading a newspaper with his plate of food still untouched.

"Hey, Cas." His eyes darted around the room in puzzlement. "Where's Dean?"

His brother-in-law lowered the paper instantly, his sharp blues narrowing on him for a moment where Sam was likely still bleeding unfortunately. When he caught Cas standing soon after, he bit back a groan. Well, Gabe was half-right at least. He'd be fussed over by Cas it seemed.

"At the office." The frown deepened before Cas sighed exasperatedly, tossing down his paper. "Gabriel! You can come out of the damn bathroom now!"

Sam winced, glancing down. Crap. He heard the door opening and the light footsteps headed their way not long after. Well, this was going well obviously.

"Howdy, little bro." Gabe's voice was still horribly raspy and sounded downright painful actually. "I was just, uh, you know—"

"Screwing Sam in our shower?" offered Cas dryly.

Sam instantly squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed awkwardly at the back of his neck. This was so not how he wanted Cas to find out.

"Yeah. That."

He glanced at him with a sigh, scoffing when he caught his fiancé standing beside him not even trying to try and politely hide his nakedness. He had to give Cas major respect for not being annoyed by the display of childishness. Though, he supposed his brother-in-law was used to this behavior.

"So, uh, how's it hanging, Cassie?"

Sam groaned instantly, his hand slapping his forehead before he hid his eyes. Damn it, Gabe.

"Slightly better than yours, it would seem," deadpanned the messy-haired, blue-eyed man with a challenging brow as he glanced at them blankly.

"Yes!" Gabe declared crackly before his hand quickly flew to his throat and massaged it. "See?" he rasped. "I knew Dean-o would be good for you. He helped dislodge that huge stick out of your ass."

"Hush," Cas commanded, giving Gabe a mild glare. "You need to rest." He then glanced at Sam and shook his head, pointing at the table. "Sit." He then turned back to his brother and glanced upwards in obvious disapproval. "You get dressed first. Then you sit as well. I'll get the first aid kit."

"So mother hen of y—Ow!" Cas instantly smacked Gabe upside the back of his head. "Jeez, bro. I was just giving you a—" He threw his hands up a second later when Cas made a motion to hit him again. His voice sounded worse now. "Okay. Okay. Fine. I'm going. Damn you're a killjoy, little bro."

Sam watched the brothers head off in opposite directions and let his head fall forward. He then did as Cas ordered, taking a seat with the plate of healthy food set aside. When he heard the footfalls a moment later, he glanced up, nibbling on a piece of bacon he had stolen. His eyes widened when he saw Gabe's t-shirt— _Expert Tree Climber: Just ask my boyfriend. I climb him daily._ What the actual fuck!

"Bacon?" Gabe teased in a rough whisper, dropping himself down while snatching a piece of bacon for himself. "Oh, my little charlatan." He then leaned forward and set down a familiar light blue shell of a Ring Pop. "Found it on the floor by the sink. Try not to lose it this time, Sam-heart."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Already working on the next part now. If you want snippets between posts, I'm posting them over on [my Tumblr](https://ladylanera.tumblr.com/) because this fic is pretty fun to write. Next part features Dean.


	3. Skeletons Dancing in the Closet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, it's been awhile, hasn't it? Sorry. I was working hard on writing this massive beast. :) And then it started fighting me halfway through. I've worked it out now, though. All right. Now, warnings/tags for this chapter. 1) it's super heavy and full of information. This should be the heaviest chapter I write, though. If it turns out later that I'm wrong, I'll mention it in the notes and you can rant at me. 2) it mentions Tom Ellis's Lucifer. Very brief in this chapter, though. Along with the rest of the Lucifer associates being mentioned. At present time, only Lucifer will show up in this fic... eventually. 3) I'd be remiss if I didn't apologize to Gabriel for all the emotional turmoil I put him through in this chapter. I'm sorry, Gabe. I will make it up to you in the next chapter. I just needed the common ground and parallelism to be formed/explored. 4) we get some secrets answered... and even more revealed. It's going to be a give or take through the fic. 5) I absolutely love the interplay on the show between Dean and Billie-and since Billie is basically in charge this season of the Winchesters, it was natural to make her Dean's boss here. 6) There is a reason to everything I'm showing here (in terms of Cas, Gabe, and Lucifer at least). I ask that you trust me. I love my angels. Contrary to what Gabe, Cas, and Luci will claim otherwise. 7) I have a running tally of every secret mentioned-and how it will be revealed/discussed. We will work through them. 8) Like Gabe, I clearly need to shut up and let you read. Enjoy.

When he saw the silhouettes against the closed blinds in the large window to his boss's office, Dean felt his heart sink in dread. He wasn't a praying man. He really wasn't. He believed in Cas, and that was enough for him. But if he were a praying man, he'd send the longest, most longing one he ever had right then for a miracle. He really should have come to the office to get this stuff yesterday. It would have been the smart thing to do after all.

He disconnected the wires and cables to his laptop haphazardly. He wasn't really sure what any really were actually. Technology had never been his thing. It was more his brother's. Shooting, cooking, caring for others—those were things Dean was good at honestly but not the only naturally. A person was so much more than they ever gave themselves credit for usually . . . and so much harder on themselves too. And if need be, he could figure things out in a pinch. After all, he had rebuilt cars with his dad completely from the ground up time after time growing up. Yet, he still doubted himself from time to time especially in times of unease. And he was definitely uneasy as hell right now.

Wincing, he groaned inwardly. Right. Laptop, case notes, notebook. That was all he needed. And the power cord to his laptop. No need to waste time. Grab those things, and then he'd be out before his boss ever found out that he was there. At least that was the plan.

"Just when I think you can't disappoint me more," the strong familiar voice of his boss called out behind him, "you surprise me." Her cool voice was clearly full of displeasure. Like usual. Because he always screwed up somehow. He really should've been fired long ago. He didn't know why she kept giving him more chances. He didn't deserve them. "Congratulations, Agent."

His eyes instantly closed as his head hung in resignation. _Son of a bitch!_

He forced a confident smile a moment later and slowly turned around to his supervisor, Special Agent in Charge Billie Reaper. He deserved her anger and disappointment. "Ma'am," he remarked politely, meeting her eyes. He then glanced at the unfamiliar woman at her side. He nodded at both, standing at attention while trying to ignore his growing unease.

"I'm curious, Dean," his supervisor asked, folding her arms over her jacket with a slight head tilt. "Did you think I wouldn't notice your laptop still here this morning?"

"Maybe?" he replied with a half-shrug. He caught the eyes of the woman standing next to his boss narrowing on him instantly in obvious disdain. He then sighed quietly. Yeah. That was a rather disrespectful on second thought. "I apologize. I was distracted yesterday by family showing up and obviously didn't follow your orders." He bowed his head towards her again. "It's no excuse."

Dean's eyes fell further to the floor regretfully, hating that he disappointed Billie yet again, before he forced himself to meet her neutral look. When he noticed the unfamiliar woman's pinched lips and death glare directed at him, he found the words slipping out again, cursing himself inwardly over it.

"Have I done something to upset you, ma'am?" he asked, addressing the unfamiliar woman.

"Oh," she replied with a casual wave, "only if you consider that you ended the career of my best marshal eleven years ago." Her unamused smile grew darker. "And then, you know, married him for good measure five years later."

He blinked before he turned towards Billie.

"Meet Naomi Carter," she stated as his supervisor motioned to the other woman. "She's in charge of the Chicago WITSEC."

Oh. Right. Cas's former boss. That certainly explained things. Dean quickly stepped forward and held a hand out, noticing their brows shoot up in response. His hand fell limply at his side a second later. Oh. Crap. That was right. No more shaking of hands anymore.

"Sorry," he muttered, glancing down foolishly. Fucking Coronavirus.

"Tell me, Agent Winchester," Naomi said abruptly, disregarding his apology. "How close are you to your brother-in-law?"

"Gabriel?" Green eyes darted in confusion to his boss, waiting for her to give him a sign on what he was supposed to say. Billie stared back impassively, though, giving him no answers.

"Yes," Naomi remarked dryly, " _Gabriel_. How close are the two of you?"

"Um, not really I guess." He shrugged, dragging a hand across the back of his neck. "I mean, he and I sort of, well, annoy the shit out of one another." To put it simply at least. "Why?" He instantly caught Naomi's look to Billie and the quick nod. "Uh, I'm sorry. What's going on here?"

His boss sharply turned. "I'm removing you from the Jane Doe case effective immediately."

"What?! No!" His mouth opened and closed several times. He was acting like an idiot. He knew that. However, he had lived and breathed this case for three weeks now. "Ma'am, all due respect—"

"Dean, that's enough." His supervisor leveled a warning glare at him, which shut him up. She would give him chances, more than most, but eventually he always ran out of them.

He dipped his head forward. "Yes." He then bit his cheek for half a moment to keep from letting his anger take complete control. She was right. He needed to reign himself back in control again. It wasn't just her he was disrespecting this time. It was also Cas's former boss. When he caught more silent looks between the women, though, he threw all his trust out the window. Too many times experience taught him that secret looks always meant trouble. "If I may ask, ma'am," he spoke up, catching her surprised gaze, "why exactly are you removing me?"

"Honestly?" Billie remarked flatly. "Because you have a significant conflict of interest that's recently come to light."

"Conflict of—I'm sorry. _What_ conflict of interest, ma'am?" His brows furrowed in confusion. The medical examiner was still trying to identify the female victim last he had heard, which was the day before yesterday. When he saw Naomi's eyes narrow on him, he felt his hackles rise higher. "I see." He swallowed down his anger the best he could, forcing himself to give them the proper respect they both deserved. "The report came back then I take it?" And whatever it said had something connecting to him. Billie was protecting the case, protecting _him_. Like she'd do for any of her agents.

"Yes. Just this morning," she answered calmly, watching him for a moment.

"It's actually why I'm here," explained Naomi, chiming in when Billie didn't elaborate.

"I'm afraid I don't follow." At the sharp, critical look, he added quietly, "ma'am."

Billie examined him for a moment acutely, as if he had all the answers that she sought written on him. Her eyes darted behind him, likely to Naomi, before she turned back with reluctance.

"Ma'am?" He glanced at them puzzled. What was going on? What was he missing?

"In the interest of full disclosure, I want you to know that the second we learned of the conflict regarding this case I had to pull you. Regardless of your answer to my following question, I need you to understand that. You would have been removed no matter what you say." Billie sighed quietly, glancing down with a shake of her head. "You have a certain, shall we say, connection that could prove useful, however. That said, we would need your absolute discretion, Dean, as well as your approval." She then leveled her trademark look on him when she meant business. "I mean it. You absolutely cannot reveal anything behind these doors to anyone. This isn't like you going rogue or accidentally shooting a marshal. Do you understand what I'm saying?" _I won't be able to save you this time if you screw up._

He nodded slowly. If he was hearing her underlying words correctly, yes, he did. However, judging by the look of utter seriousness on Billie's face, he assumed he wasn't misunderstanding her at all. She needed him to follow the rules this time by the book. Absolute no cowboy antics. Whatever was behind the door had something to do with Gabriel. That much was clear. And it had to do with his Jane Doe he had been investigating. And whatever this was, it was big.

"Dean, I need to hear your answer."

"I understand, ma'am."

"Good." She then motioned him to follow, leading them into her office. The second he stepped inside, he paused, catching sight of the photos on the whiteboard near the far wall.

"I believe you recognize Gabriel and Castiel?"

He nodded numbly, stepping towards the whiteboard on autopilot. There were lines drawn from the two men to deceased victims' photos. He swallowed, feeling his heart sink while his stomach rolled. Why were there lines drawn from Gabriel and Castiel to victims' photos? At another gut twist after his mind supplied as many dark answers it could, he closed his eyes and glanced away. His victim had led to more—to an obvious serial killer pattern it seemed. There was another whiteboard beside this one with even more victims. At least thirty more by his estimate spanning almost thirty years. But that wasn't the most damning thing he found. No. That was the question of why specifically was there a line drawn from his victim (now named as Daphne Allen as referenced on the board) to his husband?

_Oh, idiot angel of mine, what did you do?_

Drawing in a slow, even breath, he tried to approach it as he would any other case. He had to prove to Billie that he could keep his head in the game. He owed her that much after all the times she had saved his ass over the years. In reality, though, his head was two states over screaming at the bottom of a well thanks to this _awesome_ revelation.

_Damn it, Cas!_

He hooked a thumb towards the victim named on the board as Baldur Nyland who was connected by a line to his brother-in-law. He'd focus on Gabriel for now. It was easier.

"How did they know each other?" he questioned, meeting Billie's eyes.

It was Naomi surprisingly who answered, though. "According to your brother-in-law's social media posts, Mrs. Nyland," she pointed to the woman beside the man's photo "was engaged to your brother-in-law several years back briefly before she unexpectedly called it off. She married her husband Baldur a few years later after meeting him at an award's show both men were attending."

Dean blinked, glancing from Naomi to Billie. Damn. And here he thought his love life had been rough sometimes. Wow. He scratched at the back of his head and frowned.

"Okay." He turned back to look at the other photo beside the couple. It was of a handsome, bearded dark-haired man. Most notably it didn't have a giant X marked through it. "And this guy?"

"Andres Rios." Naomi gave a short laugh. "The on-again, off-again longtime boyfriend of your brother-in-law. We've placed him in protective custody as of early this morning. Though, Mr. Rios seemed fairly confused by the whole matter for some reason."

Dean's head tilted in confusion. "Do we think he's in danger?" He turned back to the board, finding eight victims crossed out on the white board with seven of them being female.

"Let me show you something."

He followed Billie to her desk, pausing when he watched her strike a key on her keyboard.

" _Gabriel Novak,"_ stated his brother-in-law on the voice recording. He sounded professional.

" _Hello, brother,"_ answered a distinctively male British voice in a clearly amused tone. _"Don't speak. Just listen. I'll make this quick since I know how difficult both of those are for you."_ There was a brief pause followed by a dark chuckle. _"I'll get right to it. Congratulations on your engagement. He's quite dreamy from what I see. Much better than the last one you were with at least."_ Another brief pause. _"Hopefully, he lasts longer than five measly days. Though, I mean it. I do truly wish all the best for you and your current fuck boy of the month."_

Dean's brows knit together more as silence stretched on for a minute. Had Gabriel hung up? Was that all that was recorded? He glanced at Billie, noticing her motion to continue listening.

" _However,"_ started the voice again a minute later, _"I have a piece of advice."_ The man on the recording chuckled again. _"If I can find you and your recent flavor of ass, what do you think the odds are that someone else can as well, hmm?"_ It was scary quiet for a moment. _"Now, don't misunderstand me please. It was cute after all. Faking yours and Cassiel's deaths as you did. But it won't work."_

Dean's frown deepened as he glanced back towards the whiteboard. It didn't escape his notice that the man on the recording had used Cas's real name. Nor was it escaping his mind that Billie and Naomi, who had likely heard this recording before, were using the Novak men's chosen names.

" _Now, you've had your fun, but reality will always bite you in the ass. Remember that, Gabriel."_

A dial tone then screeched through before silence returned. "That voice on the recording?" Dean asked reluctantly, already knowing who it was based on what he already knew.

"Belongs to Lucifer Morningstar," Billie answered, pointing at a dark-haired man second from the left of the seven photos. "He owns a club named Lux out in LA and, it would appear, assists the LAPD occasionally as a liaison."

"Morningstar?" Dean repeated quietly.

Naomi gave a quiet laugh and shrugged lightly. "Originally, your brother-in-law was a Shurley of course. However, it would seem he also legally changed his surname. In fact, it was shortly after moving out of the Shurley residence for some reason." She then motioned towards the board. "You never met your husband's family I take it?"

He shook his head with a frown. "No. Only Gabriel." Walking back, he glanced at the photos again. If he were reading the board correctly, Cas had five brothers and one deceased sister. He had only ever heard about four brothers, though. He wondered what the story was there, filing it away for later when he was back home again. "Cas rarely talks about them."

"Well, considering his and Gabriel's records, I could definitely understand why," Naomi commented, crossing her arms as she leaned back casually.

"Their records?" he asked, whipping back to her. His record in reference to Gabriel he could understand considering what he had already learned there, but _their_ records? "What do you mean, 'Their records?" He caught her eyes darting to Billie in surprise before she returned her full attention on him. When he watched her hold out a thick file a second later, he stared at it for a moment before he reluctantly grabbed it from Naomi. Out of habit, he opened it, his heart sinking the second he caught the words he had known he'd find. It wasn't legal records. It was medical records. He closed it a second later, not wanting to invade their privacy any more than he had already had. "Where did you get this?"

"During the hiring process, Castiel informed us of his past, namely about his and his brother's running away from their father and the story behind all of it," Naomi explained. "He wanted to explain any inconsistencies we might find in a background check, physical examinations, and/or polygraph tests. He was entirely forthcoming with his answers, which honestly I found refreshing."

"He told you?" Cas told complete strangers his past, but he wouldn't even bother to tell Dean? Cas had admitted to them that the brothers had faked their deaths in order to escape their family?

"Yes. He believed if he didn't, it would disqualify him from becoming a marshal. I appreciated his candor. He later granted us access to his files, and his local medical center in Pontiac sent his brother's as well for some reason."

"Ah," Dean replied, unsure what else to say. It hurt to hear, but he could understand why Cas had come clean deep down. It was the thing to do. He then closed his eyes to center himself again. "If you knew that their father was a child-abusing—"

"It wasn't their father," Naomi corrected instantly. "Based on my conversation with him, it was another family member, a sibling or another in the immediate family. All mentions of his father were clearly of negligence, yes, but he claimed the physical abuse he underwent was not his father."

Green eyes flicked back to the board, drifting over the photos. Physical abuse. On one hand, he wanted to turn away and leave the office. It wasn't knowledge he needed to learn from his boss and Cas's former one. And it was invasive as hell to find out all this in this manner. It showed a lack in trust. Cas had said when he was ready he'd tell Dean. Shouldn't he trust that Cas would then?

His finger then pointed to the photo in the upper left of the board of the smug bearded man wearing a red suit jacket over a pastel blue button-down.

"Who's this?"

Naomi's mouth opened partly before she thought better on whatever she was going to say. "That would be your father-in-law. Chuck Shurley."

Dean nodded jerkily. So, that was Chuck? Huh. Dude looked rather, well, friendly, charming at least. Who would have known that the smug asshole didn't give two licks about his kids? Bastard.

Naomi then pointed to a younger man below Chuck. "This was the only photo of Michael we could find. And even then, the Agency was not exactly thrilled with the thought of us having it. It was a yearbook photo I believe."

Agency? He glanced towards Billie then to Naomi. "Michael's CIA?" He supposed he should have assumed that based on Cas's earlier revelation of his older brother being an intelligence officer.

The women nodded curtly with Naomi speaking. "Yes. A highly trained operative in fact."

"From the looks of it, all the Shurley boys, except Gabriel, served in some form," Billie revealed. "Michael: CIA; Lucifer: official liaison to the LAPD as I mentioned; Raphael: Army; Amenadiel: JAG; and Castiel: Marshals as you know."

"And the sister?"

A flicker of somberness passed over Billie. "We don't know much there honestly."

"According to her death certificate," Naomi chimed in with a sour look, "Anna Shurley died in a freak accident in her early teens shortly after Gabriel and Castiel had left. But that's all we know."

How peculiar. "Private funeral?" he inquired.

"So it would seem," Billie stated. She then pointed towards Lucifer. "A few days after her death, Lucifer boarded a flight and went overseas. According to his travel history, he backpacked across Europe before he eventually decided to go to college where he drifted from one major to another. And then one day, he quit all together, boarded a plane, and ended up in LA as Lucifer Morningstar."

"Sporting that quaint little accent you heard on the recording," Naomi remarked with a scoff. "If you looked at the footage that we have on him from his Pontiac years to the ones now, you'd swear it's an entirely different person all together."

Dean considered this for a moment, turning back to the photo of his brother-in-law. Based on what he was seeing, the man appeared sophisticated, like he had stepped out of some Hallmark movie of some prince looking for his long-lost love. The words 'Spoiled rich boy' screamed out from the photo. Yet Lucifer also had an aura that gave off vibes of regret, contempt, and eternal suffering.

"Are we thinking some underlying trauma then?" he asked.

Billie immediately raised a brow with a slight tilt of her head. "You've been around Gabriel and your husband. What do you think, Dean?"

He winced and inclined his head. Yeah. Definitely some trauma there. But it didn't give anyone the right to murder. Shades of brilliant clover trailed back to the photos.

"These are Lucifer's associates?" He motioned towards the three women and man below the Shurley family tree. It didn't escape his notice that no one associated with Lucifer was dead. It was probably what was leading them down the path to investigating Lucifer in the first place actually.

"Yes." Naomi pointed them out, saying their names as she identified them. "Mazikeen Smith, Dr. Linda Martin, Detective Daniel Espinoza, and forensic scientist Ella Lopez."

He nodded slowly before he motioned to the purple line drawn towards Mazikeen.

"Girlfriend to another of the brothers?"

"Former lover, it would seem," Billie answered instead before she pointed towards Dr. Martin. "The line is also there for Dr. Martin who is Amenadiel's current lover and mother to his child."

Dean snorted, making a face. He was beginning to think it was some sort of Shurley trait to have the on-again, off-again relationships like they had. He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, glancing at the lines. He didn't like the fact that a lot of the deceased victims were connected to his husband. Five, in fact, unfortunately. He turned his attention to the blonde officer connected by a separate red line to Lucifer. He was stalling, and he knew it. Hell, Billie and Naomi probably knew it.

"Is she on-again, off-again?"

"I'd say on-again currently."

"By our estimate's at least," Naomi agreed with a slight shrug. "Detective Chloe Decker."

He jerked his head curtly. All that was left were the people connected to Cas. He didn't want to know deep down, but he knew he needed to unfortunately.

"So, obviously, I recognize Sammy, and the kids, and me—and Balthazar too—but who are the ladies up here connected to him?" The ladies whose pictures all had a giant X in the middle of them.

Naomi tapped against the one next to Balthazar. "Hannah Johnson. She was Castiel's partner for four years during his first years as a marshal before she transferred out." She exhaled loudly, a frown etching into her face. "She was killed two years ago by the Wrath of God killer. It's what the media has named the killer at least. As you can see, the killer has been rather prolific over the years." She motioned to the long victim board that held no Shurley connections save for a few to Lucifer. "But based on the evidence, well, these ones are personal." Her hand came up, and she pressed it against her lips before she scoffed loudly. "I should have informed Castiel of Hannah's passing, but I didn't. I couldn't."

Billie then stepped forward, gently patting Naomi's arm comfortingly when she didn't continue. His boss motioned to the women who had lines drawn from Cas to the kids a second later, taking over.

"These are the biological mothers to your adopted children. Amelia Matthews—Claire's mother—and Kelly Kline—Jack's mother," she declared.

He had assumed that possibility truthfully, but to hear her actually confirm it hit him hard in the gut. He glanced away, running a hand through his hair. These were the women responsible for giving his kids life? He wished the stupid X didn't cover so much of them. But he had names now. He could at least provide that later when he was home again. Names were a start. He'd find out more with Google.

"The adoption papers were sealed," he explained, lifting his eyes. He didn't know why he was rambling, but he was grateful of their matched understanding looks. "We didn't know who they were."

"Actually, that's not precisely true," Naomi countered with an apologetic smile.

Dean's eyes widened, his stomach dropping instantly. _What?_

"Coming from law enforcement yourself, you know how we place flags on our employees, especially when they go undercover at times. We make it a habit to keep these aliases active for years afterwards." She glanced down somberly. "After the women's deaths, the flag on Castiel's alias raised. An overzealous young woman in IT thought it wise to bring it to my attention." Naomi gave a quiet laugh, pausing for a moment. "I've always had a soft spot for him if I'm totally honest regardless of his, well, sense of misplaced loyalty to you." She watched him for a moment as if waiting for him to take her bait. He remained standing unbreakable, though, keeping his emotions shoved within deep down. "It was a bit of a nepotism, I suppose, what happened, but we intervened. Thankfully, you two were already in the start of the adoption process, so it made it easier to place them with you."

Dean caught Billie's frown but brushed it off.

"Did he know?" He forced his voice to remain steady as his stomach rolled again.

"Who Amelia and Kelly were, you mean?"

"Yes," he answered, his teeth gnashing together as his control started to slip.

"He did." She paused when Dean threw his hands up and walked away from the board, his hands angrily raking through his hair. "However, what he didn't know, Dean, but I believe he may have suspected at some point was that Jack and Claire are his biological children."

"What?" Dean whirled around, his breath catching.

"I assure you, it was nothing untoward that occurred."

"Yeah," he spat. Of course it wasn't. _Goddamn it, Cas!_

"I loaned him out to the FBI once as a favor to the director. He fit the profile to one of their victims, and he was agreeable to the, shall we say, requirements needed to frequent a fertility clinic regularly, which was needed for this undercover assignment."

The fire deep within his belly instantly doused as he turned back, searching Naomi's face. _Huh?_

"He had signed the informed release, providing his alias's name and number. It was probably a reflex and something he did not thinking a pregnancy would actually happen. When the women died, however, the fertility clinic reached out on behalf of DCFS to the number he provided. Neither had any living kin nor had they named any godparents for their children. So, before exhausting all avenues and placing them in foster care, they tried the fertility clinic they listed, which flagged his name with us."

"So, he's known for nine years that—"

"That Jack and Claire's mothers were brutally murdered, yes," Naomi interrupted, "and how I helped assist in ensuring Claire and Jack were placed in your care as a favor to him." Her chin then raised defiantly. "However, I did not inform him that they are his _actual_ children, Dean." She held his gaze for a moment before she continued. "I perhaps should have in hindsight, but, as I said before, I have a weak spot for him. And hearing him so happy that day on the phone, I remained silent. However, from the photos Balthazar has shown me over the years, it's clear he's their father. The eyes are a dead giveaway, don't you think?"

Their beautiful soulful blues were, in fact, a large reason Dean had been so convinced that Jack and Claire belonged in their family. And more than a few times over the years, he admittedly had found himself wondering how their eyes could be so close to Cas's, but he dismissed it every time as some doppelganger crap. Never once did he think it was possible. He shook his head, running the tip of his tongue over his teeth. The secrets were piling up unfortunately. So much for his total honesty.

"And these two next to me are Cas's ex-girlfriends?" He idly wondered which was April, having heard about her before and how she had stabbed Cas in the heart. Figuratively speaking that was.

"April Kelly." Billie pointed to the woman at the beginning of the photo line the trio was on. "She was found stabbed in her front yard three years ago." She then motioned to the woman next to him. "And this is Daphne Allen. After she and Castiel divorced—"

"I'm sorry," he coughed, imitating a perfect fish gasping for air. "Did you just say ' _Divorced_?" Cas had been married? What the actual fuck?! He was fairly certain he'd remember that lovely tidbit if he had been told. Which meant that yet again his asshole of a fucking husband had kept that from him as well. Oh, he was royally pissed now.

"It was a very brief affair," Naomi remarked dryly with an eyeroll. "In fact, I'm told Gabriel was rather instrumental in ending it rather quickly. A week after their divorce was finalized, you shot Castiel in a barn in Illinois."

That happened a week after? The damn ink probably wasn't even dry yet on the divorce papers. He stared at Billie horrified, his mind echoing the words over in his head. He saw her concern reflected back as she watched him silently. No wonder Cas hadn't—oh, man! His hands came up again, running through his hair and tugging on it. That explained so much. The dorky guy probably was in no shape to be on a case. He probably was stuck in his own mind and hadn't even heard Dean's instructions. Damn, he didn't think it possible, but he felt worse.

"If we can continue?" Naomi asked.

He nodded with a frown. Though, he was only half-listening to them now. His family was drowning in secrets. Some were his. Some were Cas's. Some seemed to be Gabriel's too. And soon he'd learn the kids' once they were home. At least Dean didn't have to worry about Sam. His half-giant of a brother didn't have it in him to hide anything. Sam's heart was too pure thankfully.

"Actually, wait. So, you're wanting me to get close to Gabriel, right?" Dean glanced from Billie to Naomi. "You're thinking I can get some info from him about Lucifer?" It was risky. If his brother-in-law had any sort of deeply buried protective tendencies towards Lucifer, which Dean severely doubted was the case, it'd ruin the entire case.

"Yes. However, there's more to it than just that."

More to it? He then watched Naomi pick up another manila folder, opening it and holding it out to him. He sighed but grabbed it, glancing down. The deep forest greens narrowed in confusion at seeing a photo of Gabriel clearly in an airport. Okay. The date was yesterday he noted from the timestamp. He then flipped to the next photo underneath, nearly dropping the folder the second he saw it. Gabriel was now near the bottom right edge just about to board. However, five people back wearing a plain t-shirt and baseball cap was a familiar looking man. _Lucifer._

"Unfortunately, he hasn't shown up on any cameras since they landed in Kansas City. We have a photo of him getting off the plane and following Gabriel to the baggage claim. And then, well, we have another of him standing off to the side outside the terminal, watching as Gabriel got into a taxi and headed to your place. However, Lucifer's taxi he took a minute later didn't follow. In fact, it went in an opposite direction to a bar out on the north side. Now, we have evidence of him going inside, but then he somehow slipped our surveillance and we lost him."

Billie instantly stepped closer to him, anticipating his reaction before Naomi's words even registered. "An agent is stationed near your home, Dean, and he will remain there until we bring Lucifer in for questioning."

Dean swallowed to keep from vomiting. Lucifer was possibly in Lawrence near his family? Shit! He needed to warn Cas. He needed to keep his family safe. If the man were as evil as they all were being led to believe, Dean needed to get home ASAP. He nodded back jerkily, though, meeting Billie's kind, sympathetic look. It reminded him of the way his mom would look at him sometimes.

"For close to three decades, this killer has walked free. Their victims span across numerous groups, but they are always posed postmortem with angel wings drawn around them and a listed sin." Naomi sighed quietly. "Your brother-in-law is key to this. He knows more than what he's letting on."

"You're authorized to use any means necessary, Dean," Billie stated quietly. "We need to know what Lucifer is planning."

Any means necessary? He licked his lips again and frowned inwardly. He understood the need of secrecy. He did. However, he also knew that it would ruin any chance at getting to be on semi-friendly terms with Gabriel. The older Novak seemed to want that, and Dean would be blind if he didn't notice how Gabriel's presence helped put Cas at ease.

He cleared his throat a moment later, deciding he'd do this his way with their blessing.

"By any means necessary, um—" he forced his awkward, pained smile "—does this include the option of me asking him directly about it?"

* * *

Rubbing the still throbbing part of the back of his head, Gabriel glanced across the table towards Castiel who had returned to reading the paper after tending to him and Sam earlier. His brother was looking good, healthier than he had ever seen him look before. And the younger man, in fact, seemed really happy, content with his life now. Good. Cas deserved that happiness.

"Must you stare at me like that?" the brat remarked, not bothering to glance up from his paper.

"Like what?" he rasped back, wincing slightly before he rubbed at his sore throat again. Between the throbbing head and the raw throat, he wasn't sure which hurt him more unfortunately. They both were distracting as hell, though.

Unamused cobalt blue eyes flitted over to him.

"What?" Gabe held up his hands innocently. "Can't an older brother—"

"Drink your tea and rest your voice," Cas huffed dismissively, turning back to his paper.

He couldn't explain what it was that caused his annoyance to rise, but he knew without a doubt he really didn't like his brother's reaction or rather non-reaction. There was something about it that just set him off. Maybe it was the dismissal or the outright refusal. Or maybe it was the cold reminder of how their father would be sometimes.

"Maybe later, but right now I want to talk—" His head jerked back when Cas suddenly stood up and walked away from the table. Oh no he didn't! Gabe glared at his brother's retreating form. He glanced towards Sam, noticing his fiancé's silent head shake. He frowned in response before he too stood up. Nope. This was happening. This was _so_ happening now! "Castiel!" he called out in a harsh, crackly growl. He brushed off Sam's hand to his forearm in the obvious 'let it go' manner of Sam's. Instead, he trained his whiskey eyes on his little brother. He wasn't going to talk about this before, but now he sure as shit was going to. He watched Cas pause for a moment, shoulders hunching up in obvious disapproval, prior to his brother gradually turning back around towards him.

"What?"

"I get that you're not thrilled," Gabe declared, "but I love him. Like, really love him, Castiel." He pushed through his voice cracking at random intervals, needing his brother to understand. He said nothing on the fact that his brother was walking back towards him. "So, you know, the least you could freaking do is—"

Cas's hand slapped over his mouth with a fierce glower.

"I said," he growled, "rest your voice, Gabriel."

He pushed Cas's hand off him, though. "And I said, you righteous-loving asshole, that I fucking love Sam—" he felt the hand once again briefly rest against his arm in hopes to calm him, "—so I don't give a shit that you have—"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" growled his pissy little brother. "I have no problem with you two!" He jabbed his finger deep within Gabe's sternum. "My problem is the unnecessary damage you're doing to your throat, Assbutt! All because you refuse to rest your damn voice for two damn seconds!"

"I'm fine!" Gabe rasped back, his voice squeaking out the last word comically.

"Oh, really?" Cas drawled, raising a brow as his head tilted slightly. "You're fine? Tell me. Why does it sound like you have a vibrating Muppet lodged in your throat then?"

He heard the immediate stifled laughter beside him and frowned in response.

"A _what_?"

"A Muppet. It's a—never mind." His brother shook his head, glancing upwards in the obvious 'God grant me the strength' look of his. "Just rest your voice. Please? The more you speak, the worse it's getting." His hand shot up as his glare darkened even more when Gabe's mouth opened more. "If you continue down this asinine attempt, you'll likely end up having to go to the ER and will need to explain to them how you foolishly—"

"Hey!" He grimaced at the sharp pain that had resulted and rubbed at the deep growing ache that was getting worse. Just like his brother was pointing out, and he was stubbornly refusing to believe. "Who's the big brother here, huh?"

Cas turned from him sharply. "Perhaps you'll have better luck, Sam."

"Don't you—"

"Gabriel, enough!" snapped his little brother, his blue eyes flashing crossly.

Gabe couldn't help but gasp and feel everything crash to a sudden stop at the sight. He recalled another pair of cerulean that would give him that same look many years ago, the same disappointed look of silent loathing and hatred. He remained silent this time as Cas walked away, his brother disappearing behind the master bedroom door.

"He is right, you know?" Sam quietly murmured. "You do sound awful."

The snarled words flew from Gabe's mouth before he could bite them back in time. "Then maybe next time, dick," he hissed, feeling the sharp pain roar to life in the back of his throat, "don't fuck my mouth so hard and try to choke me just to get yourself off!" He didn't need to glance at his fiancé to know the look that was staring back at him. He had seen that look from his past lovers too many times before. He almost had it memorized unfortunately. He stomped down the rest of his anger, his stomach churned, and forced himself to glance back. "That was uncalled for and . . . shitty of me," he whispered, meeting the confused, hurt hazel eyes staring back. "I'm sorry." Fuck, he was so sorry. He always did this. Always screwed up. Always ruined things.

"What was that?"

"Sam—"

"No. Answer me," urged his fiancé, his hands grabbing Gabe's instantly and squeezing them firmly. "What was that just now?"

The contact helped ground Gabe easily again, forcing him to focus on the warmth of Sam's large hands. He hated that he could see the understanding in the loving hazel. There should have been no understanding, only anger and disappointment and resentment and hurt and— He shook his head a moment later and pulled his hands back, knowing deep down he didn't deserve Sam's kindness. He deserved nothing.

"I told you I wasn't—that—do you see now?" Gabe murmured shakily, feeling his body tremble as he felt his control start to slip again. "Do you see now why you should save yourself from me?"

"Gabriel, please," Sam pleaded again. "Answer me. What was that just now? Why did you lose your temper?" He stepped forward, crowding into Gabe's space. "Please."

"Sam . . ."

"No," he argued, bending slightly to catch the amber eyes trying like hell to glance away. "We promised. Good and bad. Light and dark. So, let me in. Let me help."

His forehead instantly fell forward, resting against Sam's shoulder. He melted into the embrace the second he felt the loving strong arms wrap loosely around him.

"Talk to me."

"I—" His voice gave out, and he sighed heavily, nuzzling deeper into his fiancé's larger frame. Sam wasn't running from him. He should have. Fuck, he should have been running to Hawaii by now. But he wasn't. All the others in Gabe's life had. Well, most of them had at least. When he felt the hands rub gentle, loving circles against his back, he stifled a choked back sob. He squeezed his eyes tighter together, biting his lower lip, desperate to hold back the words trying to claw their way up and out of his aching throat. He didn't deserve this kindness. He didn't deserve this love. He didn't deserve anything.

"It's okay. Take your time," Sam quietly soothed. "I'm not going anywhere."

"You should, though," Gabe replied unevenly.

"Why?" Sam paused for a moment before he pulled back and gently hooked a finger under Gabe's chin to push his head upwards to force their gaze to meet. "Because you lashed out? Tried to push me away again? Acted like a wounded animal for some reason?" Sam huffed softly before he pressed a gentle kiss against Gabe's forehead. "When are you going to get it through your goddamn thick skull that you and I belong together. That your darkness, your pain, your trauma doesn't have to be yours alone anymore. That _you_ aren't alone anymore, Gabe."

"I . . ." He inhaled deeply again, shuddering as he saw more of the warmth of Sam's love. "I have . . . severe Daddy issues."

Sam gave him a gentle smile back, tenderly brushing back his sun-kissed golden locks. "Yeah. See? I sort of figured that out already." He brushed their lips together slowly before he pressed their foreheads together. "So, are you saying I somehow reminded you of your dad then?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"Cas did. I just . . . it was stupid. I shouldn't have gotten caught up in my head like that."

"Yeah." Sam then sighed quietly. "Gabriel?"

He reluctantly pulled back to meet the loving hazel.

"I know you're against it, but I'm just—will you please just consider that maybe talking to someone professionally might help?"

"Sam . . ."

"I'll go with you. You know I will."

"I know." God, did he know. Sam would follow him into the depths of Hell if he asked. He was certain of that. "I-I'll consider it," he rasped. Maybe one day but not right then. Not with COVID.

At hearing the front door open behind them, the couple quickly jumped apart and scrambled to their earlier seats.

"Saw that," a younger amused voice quipped from the doorway.

At hearing Sam's snort beside him, Gabe glanced towards the front door, noticing the wide grin on his niece's face. He hadn't seen her or his nephew since probably the wedding unfortunately. They hadn't been home the last two times he had visited since. They had sure grown up a lot in five years. He gave them a polite smile, noticing Jack's head tilting. Damn, the kid looked so like Cas had.

"Something wrong, kiddo?" he asked with his voice crackling slightly. He caught Sam's look. Yeah, he'd start resting his voice soon.

"Are . . ." Jack then glanced at his sister before he turned back, his chin lifting slightly. "You're our Uncle Gabriel, aren't you?"

Gabe cleared his throat, grimacing at the pain that had resulted from it. "Sure am," he croaked, his eyes quickly falling to the table at hearing himself. Shit, he really did sound terrible. "Sorry. I, uh, have laryngitis," he lied, rubbing at his throat silently.

"And Dad hasn't subjected you to his honey-infused concoction yet?" Claire tossed back, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl.

"Working on it now in fact," he remarked, holding up his cup. "He put, uh, little bit of caramel in it for me. Sweet tooth and all."

She snorted, rolling her eyes before she took a bite.

Gabe's eyes fell back to his half-eaten plate. Claire at least had recognized him. He supposed that was a start. Though, he hated the fact that in five years Jack had already forgotten him again.

"So, how long are you here for this time anyway?" his niece called out.

He glanced back at her.

"You know, before you turn tail and run off again, and we don't see you for another five years?"

"Claire," Sam scolded.

"Or— _wait_ —is it because—"

"Enough!" Sam ordered.

"Fine," she relented before she turned to Jack and nodded to her brother.

Gabe's eyes narrowed on them in confusion. What was that all about?

Two seconds later, he had his answer. Jack flew to his side and hugged him tightly, his arms wrapped around Gabe's neck doing an exceptionally good impression of a constrictor with its prey.

He winced, grimacing from his nephew's strength. He gently patted Jack's arm a few times before the pain started to become too much. He gasped, dissolving into a violent fit soon after. The vice-like grip around his neck suddenly vanished, and he leaned forward, his entire body shaking from his vicious coughing. He felt a hand quickly rub circles against his back, but he couldn't focus on it.

"Sam?" Jack hesitantly asked behind him, his voice quivering in obvious fear.

"It's all right. Gabriel just needs a moment." He quickly laced his and Gabe's fingers together. "He'll be fine."

Gabe wished he shared Sam's optimism. He drew in several large gasping breaths, trying to concentrate on his breathing instead of the pounding in his head. Vaguely, he heard a door open before he heard footsteps heading towards them. A glass of water then was thrust into his line of sight. He groaned, turning away from it.

"Oh, just drink it already, will you?" his brother huffed near him.

Reluctantly, Gabe grabbed it, timing the sips in between the coughing as best as he could. It took a few moments, but eventually he quieted down again. He closed his eyes in relief and sagged back in his chair, missing the comforting hand that had been on his back. If he never coughed again, he'd die a happy man seriously.

"Perhaps next time you'll listen to me," Cas quipped with a frown.

Gabe mocked him back silently, catching Sam's disapproval out of the corner of his eye. He didn't care, though. The little brat deserved it.

"So," Claire drawled, leaning back against the island, "you never answered, candy man." Her eyes narrowed onto Gabe. "How long are you here for this time?"

"Claire Winchester!" Cas reprimanded instantly.

Gabe shrugged back lazily, though, not at all bothered by her words. After all, he supposed he deserved it. "Not sure yet honestly," he mouthed slowly, making sure not to use his vocal chords in the slightest. "However, probably until the end of this whole quarantine thing. That a good enough answer for you, Princess Emo?" he tossed back silently, hearing Sam's snort next to him.

"I suppose," she replied. "For now at least."

"Thank Heavens for small favors," he quipped back with a grimace, catching her quiet laugh as she glanced away. He then turned towards Jack. "You knew who I was earlier, didn't you?"

"Yes," Jack answered, nodding slowly. "But Claire said I should pretend I didn't so we'd see how you'd react."

"And?" he silently urged, crossing his arms. "Did I react like you two thought?" He could recall playing that game with Cas years ago. It was how they'd decide to trust someone or not. More often than not, they would decide not to trust the stranger. Or rather he'd decide for them. It was easier that way.

"You were more of a bitch than—"

"Claire!"

"Yes, Dad?" she replied innocently, glancing at her disapproving father and batting her lashes.

Gabe snorted, shaking his head. "It's fine, Cas," he rasped, waving his brother off. "We did way worse growing up, remember?" he mouthed. "Hell, it's not like I didn't deserve it either." He then turned back to his niece and nephew. "So, how's college going anyway? Meet anyone yet?" He caught Claire's eyes darting to the floor instantly and filed it away for later. However, it was his nephew's look that he focused on. "Jack?"

"Everyone always asks that question. As if the main goal is to meet someone and not learn." He frowned when Claire gently patted his shoulder. "Isn't that why we're going to college? To learn?"

"Maybe that's why _you're_ going," she replied smirking at her brother. She then glanced back at Cas. "Where's Dad at? The office?"

"Yes. He should be back any moment, though."

"Cool." She then turned her attention back on Gabe. "So, you think you and Uncle Sam can keep your bedroom activities down while you're here or should we just sleep in earplugs?"

"Still got your dad's mouth, I see." Gabe watched Claire's eyes light up in pride just as he thought it would. "But the answer to your question is no. You don't need earplugs. Because nothing's going to happen."

She glanced at Sam and then back to him. "Really?"

"Really."

"Uncle Sam's not—"

"Uncle Sam is right here, thank you," huffed the New York lawyer, raising a brow at her. "And don't think I won't let your dads in on your little friend either."

"Little friend?" Cas repeated, his head snapping to his daughter. "What little friend?"

"Nothing," Claire stated nervously. "No one, Dad. I-I honestly don't have any idea what he's—"

"Sam."

Gabe snickered in response, grinning from ear to ear. Damn. The kids had been home for five minutes already, and secrets were already coming to light.

"All right. Fine," Claire huffed. "There's a girl in my class that I sorta kinda like. Maybe."

"And by sorta kinda like maybe, she means she totally does," Sam offered with a wide smile.

"I told you that in complete confidence," she groused. "How would you like it if I told Uncle Gabe about your little friend from work you get coffee with sometimes, huh?"

Gabe's head snapped towards his fiancé with a raised brow. "Your little friend?" He wasn't really worried. He knew Sam better than that. But for appearances, he'd act like he didn't trust him.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Her name is Eileen Leahy, and I already told you about her."

He thought on it for a moment, trying to recall the name. He was certain Sam had mentioned her before. He searched through more of their conversations before it finally hit him. "Wait. Is that the cute paralegal teaching you sign language?"

"Exactly. And her name is Eileen, Gabe."

Snorting, he turned towards his niece, amused at her glare. "See, Claire? We have a healthy relationship." The second he heard Cas's muffled snort, he glanced at his baby brother and frowned. "You should try it sometime." He then turned his attention back to her. "But then again, I forget who I'm talking to here. Your generation thinks creepy, abusive boyfriends are something to strive for. And don't even get me started on the whole bad boy trope."

"Uh, did you miss the part where I admitted that I liked a girl?"

He shrugged. "No. But you could be like your dads and be bi."

"Yeah," she laughed before she motioned to herself. "Fully lesbian here. Sorry."

He smiled back at her and nodded. "Why? Lesbians have more fun. Or so I'm told."

"Gabriel," Cas admonished, glaring before he turned to his daughter. His disapproval quickly vanished again. Fatherhood suited the man clearly. "Perhaps someday you could bring her over. Your father and I would love to meet her."

"Uh, um, yeah . . ." She scratched the back of her neck, clearly uncomfortable. "If it's all the same, could we maybe not, um, you know, do that?"

"Claire . . ."

"It's just, well, Kaia and I are taking things sort of slow, and I don't want to freak her out, Dad. And bringing her home and going 'Hey, so, this is my dad Dean. He's with the FBI, and this is my other dad Cas, and he does . . . something with serial killers.' It's not exactly, you know, something a girl sort of wants to do right away in a semi-new relationship."

"I see."

"You could invite her to the wedding," Gabe remarked offhandedly. When he heard the gasps, he groaned inwardly. Shit. Why did he say that?

"Wait. You two are getting married?"

"We are," Sam answered, the grin clearly heard in his voice. "We just have to get Dean past his urge to kill Gabe first."

Claire snorted. "Good luck with that."

"Seriously, it's not that bad. I think I know my brother a little bit better than that. Once he spends time with Gabe, Dean's going to see that they're not so different."

Gabe winced, taking another sip of his water. He could admit there were some similarities between them, older brothers and stuff, but he still wasn't so certain about this. He still believed it'd end with him having a new bullet-shaped scar. Maybe if he were lucky, it'd match his nearly thirty-year-old knife wound. He felt the instant pang at that thought. He need to stop thinking like that. Seriously.

"Yeah. See. I don't think that's what's going to happen here, Uncle Sam," Claire stated. "I think Dad's going to shoot him."

"Dean's not going to—Cas, back me up here, will you?"

"Sam's right, Claire. He won't shoot him."

"See?" Sam motioned towards Cas.

"Dean's much more likely instead to rant and rave before he throws things."

When the front door suddenly burst open, all of them jumped in surprise. However, they relaxed when Dean strode in a second later, kicking the door shut behind him. He didn't even so much as glance at any of them, striding across the front room instead before he gently set his laptop and pile of messy tangled cords down atop of the island with a grunt.

"Dean—" Cas's mouth instantly closed when Dean held up a finger.

"Gabriel," Dean quietly said, his voice low and almost terrifying in a way, "could I see you in private for a minute _please_?"

Somehow, Gabe managed to get to his feet, brushing off Sam's concern. His brother-in-law probably still was seething about earlier. This reaction didn't necessarily mean anything. Like, for example, if Dean knew about him and Sam. It couldn't. Plus, where would Dean had even found out anyway? The local FBI office? Gabe hardly did anything that called for being watched by the Feds. At least he didn't think he did. All of his actors and actresses were quadruple verified before ever setting foot onto the lot. In fact, most of them he used were in their later 20s just to be safe.

He followed Dean, though, into what seemed to be an office. A very, very messy office Gabe noted a moment later with a frown. Amber eyes narrowed on handwriting on one of the discarded notes nearest him on the desk piled high with books. It was his brother's writing. Was this Cas's office then? He quickly glanced around the rest of the room. Crumpled-up notes were strewn about on the floor near the garbage can. There were dates scribbled everywhere on notepads with names next to them. He leaned forward suddenly when he recognized one of the names. Why was Kali's name listed next to a date from a few years back?

When the door closed behind them, Gabe inhaled slowly and turned his attention back to Dean. Oh. That was right. He was waiting for the expected rage that always was directed at him. He could see the anger boiling as he watched his brother-in-law rake his hands through his hair, glaring at him with absolute disdain. He sighed inwardly, deciding he'd make the first move this time.

"Dean—"

"No. No, you don't get to talk right now. You had your chance," Dean stated coldly, his finger jammed into Gabe's sternum. He scoffed a second later. "I don't get it. I really do not get it."

Gabe's eyes briefly narrowed before he glanced down and sighed inwardly.

"The first thing you should have done, the absolutely very first words out of your mouth should have been you telling me the goddamn truth!" Dean growled, his eyes darkening in fury.

His heart dropped to his toes. Oh, fuck. How the hell had Dean found out?

"Everything else shouldn't have mattered." He then took a large step back. "Now, I get it. I do. You're not used to anyone other than yourself and sometimes Cas. But—I mean, are you fucking kidding me right now? Seriously?!" His glare darkened on Gabe. "I had to find out from my boss! My goddamn boss, dude!"

The color fled from Gabe's face. How the hell did the FBI know about Sam and him? For that matter, why the hell had they told Dean about it? That didn't seem like something that was any of their business really. In fact, he was fairly certain it wasn't!

Dean threw his hands up and exhaled forcefully. "First things first, you can relax and stop worrying. Your fiancé is safe. All right?" He had forced his voice softer, but the edge was still there. "He's in protective custody now."

Gabe blinked hard. "Say _what_ now?" How the hell was Sam in protective custody when he was . . . He must have heard that wrong. That had to have been what happened here.

"They placed him in protective custody as of this morning," Dean repeated slowly, the anger clearly simmering beneath the surface again. He then pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and stepped forward, slapping it into Gabe's hand. "That's the number the marshals provided so you can call him later. But, for fuck's sake, dude! The very first fucking words out of your mouth should have been 'Hey, so my completely fucked-up brother, Lucifer, called and threatened my fiancé and me, so can I lay low here for a bit just to make sure Cas is okay?' I mean, shit, Gabriel, I'm a brother too, you idiot. I would have understood if you had fucking told me."

Gabe's mouth dropped, as his eyes widened. Oh, this was bad! So . . . very . . . bad.

"Dean—" His hand flew up to cut his brother-in-law off the second Dean opened his mouth to argue again. "Just who exactly do you— _they_ —think I'm engaged to here?" Soulful whiskey eyes glanced towards the door. Because it sure as hell wasn't Sam by Gabe's estimate.

Deep emerald watched him for a moment, brows furrowing, before his brother-in-law finally replied. "Andres Rios."

"Rios?" Now there was a name Gabe hadn't heard in a long time. "Uh." He coughed before gaping at him in confusion. _Rios?_ As in his old flame that had broken up with him on the set of one of Gabe's movies and aired all of their dirty laundry in front of all his staff because Gabe refused to cast him as a lead after they were dating? That Rios?

"Yes. Your on-again, off-again boyfriend—well, now, fiancé I guess."

"I—I . . ." His voice cut out with a rough, painful squeak, and his eyes fell in absolute shock.

They thought he was engaged to Rios? Seriously? And had _Rios_ in protective custody? Oh, fuck! This whole thing just went from bad to worse in a matter of hours. Not to mention, so much for keeping his engagement out of the press for that matter. They'd be chasing after that story like hounds searching for drugs in an airport. But Rios? They seriously thought Gabe was still with Rios?

God, Gabe was fucked. If he thought Andres was annoyed before, Lord only knew how upset his ex would be with him now over this. Rios would probably leave Gabe a ranting voicemail again.

"Dean, I'm not—that is—Rios isn't my fiancé." The stuttering words stumbled out of his dry mouth. He waited until he caught the bright greens, his insides imitating a dishcloth being wrung out. "I haven't been with him since—fuck—probably the Thursday before your wedding?"

"Wait. So, you're not engaged to him?"

"No." He shook his head. "He's—we broke it off five years ago. I haven't even seen him since then. He's been working on other projects, overseas I think." Or as Gabe liked to think of it, Rios was still hiding from him on the other side of the world.

"Oh." Dean took a step towards him. "Then, I'm going to need the name of your current fiancé."

"Yeah, that's not going to happen."

"Gabriel!"

"Dean!" he threw back, his voice rasping and crackling. "I said no."

"You understand the seriousness of this, right? Your brother threatened you and your fiancé! Hell, he's even made it a show by bringing in Cas. You get that, though, right? How badly this could have gone if I didn't know about any of this?"

"Dean—" he croaked, his mouth going drier than Desert Valley.

"I can only protect our family if I know of the threat! Otherwise, I'm flying blind here."

The phrases echoed on a loop. He had to get words out. Argue. Say something! He knew that. However, he found himself just staring in horror at his ranting brother-in-law. Dean knew about Lucifer's warning somehow. Dean knew. He knew!

Dean . . . knew.

Welp. It was official. Gabe was dead. Goodbye, world! That was all she wrote!

"I mean, come on, man!" Dean scoffed. "He was on the same goddamn flight as you!"

The words slapped him hard in the face. Gabe's hand blindly reached for something to steady himself. "What?" he breathed out, his heart lurching in dread.

"Lucifer," clarified his brother-in-law calmly. "He followed you here from LA."

Followed—Lucifer followed—Lucifer—

"Luci's here?" he choked out, feeling the walls slam all around him.

" _Careful now,"_ sung the twisted amused dark voice in Gabe's mind.A distant memory echoing in his head. _"We wouldn't want any accidents. Now, would we, sweet brother of mine."_

Gabe felt cold suddenly. As if something had zapped all his happiness away, leaving behind only despair and terror. It all rushed back. Everything he had ever tried to escape. It was right there again, suffocating him. His fingers curled tightly around the cool metal of the chair, gripping it to stay upright. This couldn't be happening. This had to be a terrible nightmare. It couldn't be real. It couldn't.

"Yeah." Dean shook his head furiously, glancing away. "Only neither the FBI nor the Marshals can seem to find your brother right now. How's that for fun, huh?"

They couldn't find Lucifer?

Amber eyes darted back and forth, as Gabe recalled memory after memory of his older brother. It was like an old reel playing, winding around on repeat. One nightmare after another flashed. His hands pulled back protectively, desperately needing to calm himself again. His breathing turned ragged, heavy and utterly fearful. Luci could be in Lawrence? He had followed Gabe? Luci . . . was there . . . with them? With Dean and the kids? With Cas? With Sam? No. He had hoped he was wrong this time.

"Hey. Hey, it's okay," Dean interrupted, finally noticing Gabe's panic. He stepped into his line of sight with concern. "Dude, it's okay. Seriously. They've assigned an agent to the house. And I'm here." His hand came down heavy onto his shoulder. "I won't let anything happen. You have my word."

"It won't do any good." Gabe grabbed Dean's biceps with both hands. "My brother is—Dean, he's the embodiment of evil! He's—I mean, his name is fucking Lucifer for God's sake! He was named after Satan! Are you—you think you—Dean, he has killed people!"

"Yeah? So have I," declared his brother-in-law.

"For fun? For sport?" Gabe threw back. "Because you're a fucking narcissistic psychopath who couldn't share the spotlight with anyone? Desperately seeking attention, Dad's love all the damn time!" He searched Dean's face, wishing he could make his brother-in-law understand the evilness that was in his older brother that he had seen all those years ago. He knew deep down, though, Dean couldn't. No one could. But he sure as hell would try.

Pulling his hands back sharply, Gabe shoved his shirt up, bunching it as he turned to show the raised white scar to his upper left quadrant of his abdomen. "My loving brother gave me this!" he ranted, pointing at the ugly scar that he hadn't even told Sam about yet—even though Sam had repeatedly asked about it over the years. "Know why? Because for one damn moment, just one, Dad noticed me. He told me what a good son I was. How proud he was of me." He choked back his sobs, as his body shook in anguish. "That night I woke up to my big brother standing next to my bed staring down at me blankly, as if he had no clue who I was, as if I was a complete stranger and not his blood. He said nothing to me. Not a damn word before he shoved a knife into me. And then he just calmly walked out, like it was no big deal. As I choked on my own blood, Dean." The memories flooded back, and he desperately tried to shove them back. That was a wall he didn't ever want broken. "I was twelve!"

When Dean moved towards him, likely to comfort, Gabe flinched, sharply pulling far back from him protectively. He caught Dean's instant surprise before his brother-in-law stepped back respectfully.

"Understood." Dean took several steps back with hands up. "I'm sorry, man. I'll back off."

Gabe nodded shakily, trying to suppress all the emotions back behind the shattering wall he clung to for decades. He appreciated what Dean was doing. He really did. The kindness his brother-in-law was showing was so refreshing considering the many years of contempt and disbelief others had shown instead, but he couldn't. Not yet. It was still too . . . something. The bottom of his shirt slipped through his fingers, falling back down to hide his scar again.

"H-how do you know . . . " His raspy voice trailed off.

"My boss and Cas's former boss were in the office when I was getting my crap. They asked me to get close to you. Find out what you knew. Use you in other words," Dean admitted. "Obviously, I ain't doing that. I mean, shit, there's enough secrets in this family already, you know?"

The words flew from his mouth then, needing to make Dean understand that he was not a threat to Dean's family. He wasn't. "They think I—I haven't seen Lucifer since I was fifteen!"

"Yeah." His brother-in-law shrugged, motioning that he was at a loss for words.

"Why the hell would they think I would know anything? I don't even know how that asshole managed to get ahold of my number."

"Do you honestly want to know why?"

"No. Lie to me," Gabe snarked with a glare. "Of course I want the damn truth."

Dean sighed heavily, running fingers back through his hair. "He lives in LA. Has for years. In fact, according to the file, he lives a block from your condo actually."

Inhaling sharply, Gabe felt everything skid to a halt again. He stared at Dean, his thoughts silent for once. "What?" No. No. It couldn't be true. His brother couldn't live in LA. It wasn't possible. He and Cas would have already been dead if that were true. Lucifer would have murdered them.

"I know. I figured that'd be news to you." Dean shrugged. "Trust me. I get it."

Gabe's eyes narrowed on him, though. Oh, he very much doubted Dean _got it._ "He lives in LA?" he repeated, his voice shaking as his insides twisted. He couldn't get past that Lucifer lived in LA with him. It couldn't be true. It didn't make sense. How the hell was he still alive then?

"Yeah." Dean was demonstrating the patience of a saint somehow. It wasn't lost on Gabe at all. "Supposedly, your brother left not long after your sister died—"

Gabe fell back into the desk with wide amber eyes. The last time he saw his beautiful little sister flashed in his mind. She had been reading at the time, annoyed with him for his constant nervous chattering. It ended like it usually did. Her smacking him with her book and telling him to go get lost already and leave her alone. He remembered Chuck coming in then, interrupting them which was strange at the time because his dad rarely noticed them. Chuck had asked Gabe to follow him into the study. The door shutting behind them echoed in his mind as the memory finished. Ten hours later, after that ill-fated meeting, he and Cas were far, far away from Pontiac, never once looking back.

"Anna's . . ." His hands came up, covering his face as he tried to hold back his tears.

Dean's eyes widened in sudden understanding. "Shit. Of course! You didn't know." He exhaled loudly, his eyes squeezed shut. "I'm sorry, man. It didn't hit me until now. Fuck. I'm so sorry. I—"

"How?" Gabe whispered, forcing his hand down to stare through watery whiskey eyes. When there was no response, he grabbed his brother-in-law's upper arms. "Dean, tell me. Please." His voice cracked as a few traitorous tears fell. He wiped angrily at them. "How?"

He knew. Even before Dean answered, Gabe knew. He had known the minute he and Cas left all those years ago that he had chosen wrong like always. That he had left his sister there to die.

"They don't . . ." Dean shook his head, letting out his tension with a loud exhale. "No one really knows." His shoulders raised and lowered briefly, as his eyes softened in that familiar pitying look Gabe hated seeing in others. "The certificate stated it was a freak accident, but there wasn't an obituary."

"Dean," he pleaded, feeling his heart chipping apart. "Please."

"She was buried the very next day after the coroner declared her dead. No autopsy was requested or performed." The deep emerald softened more before Dean glanced down guiltily, his tongue slowly darting out to wet his lips.

"Please," Gabe choked out, inhaling shakily. He needed to know. He needed that last nail driven into his metaphorical coffin again. That last final straw was always there, looming over him. This time would be no different. It never was.

Dean's eyes squeezed shut in obvious pain, which caused Gabe to inhale sharply to prepare himself for the emotional blow. "She was fourteen when she died."

The words bounced around in Gabe's head repeating to the drumbeat of his breaking heart. He swallowed down the bile that was threatening to rise as his stomach lurched.

She was fourteen when he and Cas left.

"When?"

"What?"

"When did she . . ." He inhaled shakily with a few more tears splashing down onto his cheeks. "When did it happen? The date?"

"September 5—"

A sudden loud buzzing erupted then inside Gabe's mind. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. He didn't blink. He just stared forward blankly, a lifeless statue. September 5—the day after his birthday. His lungs burned with his reddening eyes. Vaguely, as if someone else, he felt tears streak down his face. The day after he and Cas had run away.

"Gabriel?" someone murmured near him.

He paid little attention to it, though. He was wrong. He was so fucking wrong. And she paid the price for it. He swallowed, ignoring the sharp stabbing pain that shot up with the action again. When he felt arms suddenly wrap around him, he shuddered, clawing at the violent emotions that seeped through the cracks in his tattered soul.

 _Sam . . ._ His beautiful Sam always knew just the right thing to do. He clutched the man tighter, burying his head into the crook of his neck.

After a moment, though, he noticed how they didn't fit together like usual. And he didn't smell the usual insane amount of hair product either. And Sam felt more . . . softer than usual? Gabe's mind slipped for a second, jolting him back to notice that instead of shaggy hair, it was short, spiky brown. Instead of hair product, he smelled old leather and some sort of musky cologne.

"What the fuck?!" Gabe threw himself back, his voice screeching and sending up waves of glass-cutting-the-back-of-his-throat feels.

"Easy." Dean held his hands up non-threateningly. "It's all right."

Gabe's eyes darted about wildly. Where was Sam? W—why was it only Dean in here with him?

"Hey! It's okay! Just—come on—just take a breath. It's okay," Dean instructed firmly, his green eyes full of concern. "Just take a breath with me. All right? Just one."

"Where's—" No. He could have sworn Sam was the one who—

The thoughts that spun around in his head suddenly vanished again.

It wasn't Sam. It was _Dean._

His eyes closed, and Gabe's hands quickly went to his long hair, tugging on it to focus on that brief pain. Stupid. So freaking stupid.

Of course it wasn't Sam. Sam was out in the kitchen with Cas.

"Gabriel, hey, talk to me." Dean stepped closer, pausing half a step away when Gabe hunched up defensively. "I get it." He then scoffed, shaking his head with a flippant shrug. "I mean, I don't really. I barely know you, man. But, hey, I got my issues too. So, just tell me what you need. Booze? I got it. Any kind you'd ever want. Someone to talk to? I'm here, and I ain't got a damn place to be for the next month or so. You just—" He then let out another scoff of annoyance before he held out the Kleenex box. "I've been there, you know? When you find out that someone you love is dead. When the whole damn walls come crashing in on you like never-ending waves of suffocating darkness. I been there, done that."

Amber eyes darted to Dean, quickly focusing on him in confusion but using the distraction to pull himself free. He quickly blew his nose, grabbing another Kleenex to put himself back together.

"I used booze, just like John had, to cope. I seriously thought it was what a person just did. Then when that lost its appeal, I found everything I could just to escape, get out of my head a bit, you know?"

Gabe stared at his brother-in-law, unable to speak. Yes. He knew exactly what that was like. Maybe he was wrong about Dean too. Maybe the eldest Winchester knew exactly what it was like.

"Like father, like son." His brother-in-law scoffed bitterly. "Only when Dad found out, hell, he was spitting mad about it. Threw down his old ratty Singer Auto Salvage ball cap of his and told me that if I wanted to go down the path of John Winchester and kill myself, go right ahead, but that I'd have to answer myself later to Sammy for it."

Gabe felt his heart clench at that. He had met the grumpy old Bobby Singer at Dean and Cas's wedding of course. Bobby had clearly not been impressed with Gabe in the slightest. In fact, the old coot seemed to have it out for him from the start. Though, Gabe could understand that really. He had dropped the ball and nearly ruined the wedding singlehandedly with his antics.

The boys' mom, Sheriff Mills, though, seemed to like him well enough. At least up until the moment she caught him and Sam in the confessional together right before the wedding. Then she had opinions about him. Strong, strong opinions.

"Fuck, Dad knew just the right words to get me to snap out of it," Dean continued. "Course it didn't really heal me. You can't fix a broken kid overnight after all. But he and Mom talked it over, and they decided to get me some help, you know, like professionally." Dean's eyes darted down, and he pulled his foot awkwardly against the floor. "I'm not telling you what to do here. I'm not. My words don't meant shit. You have to want it, Gabriel. No amount of anyone begging or pleading you to get help is going to make you do it really." He frowned, his eyes flicking up somberly. "But I'm just saying . . . you got some heavy shit. You do. And, fuck, I'm sure I don't even know half of what went down in your guys' family."

Gabe doubted anyone did.

"If there's one thing I know, though, it's how thankful I am that I got help before he and I married. It's what took so damn long to ask," he admitted quietly. "I wasn't dragging my feet, afraid of commitment, or any crap like that. I knew he was the one from the very beginning. No, I waited because I had to get myself straight again before I could even think about him and me living our happy ending. It just took five years to get over the whole me shooting him. And I'm still struggling with it some days."

Glancing away, Gabe sighed heavily. He heard what Dean was saying. He did. It was the same thing Sam had been trying to get him to see for years now. His mood darkened as he recalled earlier in the kitchen and his outburst. It was getting harder to keep his turbulent emotions locked under the padlocks that once had been strong enough to hold back the ugly beast inside.

He needed to do something. He couldn't continue just relying on his dark humor and sarcasm to get by anymore. They were failing him. _He_ was failing. The very worst thing he could do was pull Sam underneath as he drowned. He knew that. He had pulled so many others down over the years. He couldn't do the same to Sam. It wasn't fair to such a bright soul like his moose.

"You don't have to decide now. You don't even have to decide tomorrow. Just think about it," he mentioned casually. "And if you do decide on it, let me know and I'll get you an appointment."

"Dean," he croaked.

"There's no shame in it, Gabriel. Seriously. I mean, I've gone since I was, shit, twelve. Your brother still goes. Not sure how he's going to do it now with lockdown, but I'm sure he will. Hell, my kids even went for a bit after, um, some scary shit went down. It's important to get yourself healthy mentally and stuff. And it makes things easier down the road. Least I found that to be the case."

"Cas goes?"

"Yeah. As long as I've known him." He then snorted a chuckle. "We actually bonded over it. I hid it from so many others, afraid to let people know about it. I thought it made me weak, you know? All that toxic crap a person hears from anyone with a big ass mouth. But it's not." He shrugged. "It takes a certain—I don't know—strength to admit you need help from time to time. That you're not this perfect human being. And, you know, if you're worried about paying for it, I can—"

"Nah, bucko. I'm not broke." Gabe then forced a guilty smile before he mouthed, "I could have paid my rent even though Zachariah raised it like the jackass he is. I just . . . after hearing Luci's voice, I needed to be near Cas. To make sure he was all right."

"I get that." Dean rubbed at his neck for a moment. "We'll keep this between us for now. All right? No need in worrying all of them over this quite yet. Especially since your brother didn't necessarily follow you straight here according to everything we've seen."

Gabe nodded jerkily, wincing at the deep ache.

"I do need you to tell me everything about your brother at some point. They're seriously looking at him. And all the evidence does seem rather strong."

"Should you be telling me all this?" Gabe asked, raising a brow.

"Probably not, but I cleared it with my boss. Told her I could get you with some honey better than I ever could with piss and vinegar."

Gabe chuckled, groaning and grimacing before he rubbed his throat. Dean wasn't wrong there.

"Seriously, dude, what the fuck did you do while I was gone anyway?" Dean asked with a raised brow soon after. "You sound like—I don't even know."

"Like a vibrating Muppet according to my brother," Gabe mouthed with a faint smirk.

Dean instantly snapped his fingers. "Dude! Yes! Exactly like that." His eyes leveled a quick exam of him before he met Gabe's unamused look. "Seriously, though, what'd you do? Like you sound—it's hurting me just listening to you." He then leaned towards him. "You're not sick, are you?"

"No. I just overworked my voice earlier. I'll be fine in a few days." He was fairly certain at least.

"Good." Dean then cleared his throat, pressing his tongue firmly against his cheek. "I am going to need your fiancé's name, though, Gabriel. I mean, we'll keep Rios in protective custody of course, but we need his name. And if you're worried about it leaking to the press, don't. Only my boss and a handful of agents will know it. Hell, she'll probably give your fiancé an alias or something."

The lie easily slid off his tongue. "There's no fiancé. I'm not engaged." When Dean's eyes narrowed on him, he smoothly added, "Yeah, okay, I know how it looks, but I'm not. I messed it up. Again. And the dude got smart and turned tail. It happens. All right? There's no guy." Not liking how Dean didn't seem to be believing him, Gabe scoffed loudly. "Come on, Winchester. Don't you think if I was engaged, I'd be out here with you and Cas? No. I wouldn't. I'd be in his bed or, hell, fucking against the railing on his balcony. I came here because I didn't want to be stuck in my damn apartment alone anymore while my psycho brother is out there in the world. I'd have told Cas and stayed away. The last thing I want to do is fuck up your lives more than I already have."

"You're not engaged?"

"100 percent not engaged," Gabe replied, holding up his hand. "Swear on Mom's life." When he caught Dean's surprise, he realized he had said the wrong thing. "What?"

"Your mom's alive?"

"Probably. I don't know." He shrugged lightly. "I never actually met Mom. Hell, I never met Ralphie's or Amenadiel's either for that matter. Dad would just bring home a new baby from time and time and tell us to welcome it into the _happy_ family."

Dean's mouth dropped. "What?"

"Yeah. Cool family, huh?"

If Dean only knew the skeletons lurking in the Shurley family closet, both Winchesters would have run far, far away. Gabe was sure of it. Sam knew quite a bit about it thankfully, but judging by Dean's reactions, his brother-in-law didn't have a clue.

"What the fuck!" Dean exclaimed before he scoffed, waving his hand. "How many goddamn secrets do we have in this freakin' family?

Gabe wisely remained silent. After all, it wasn't like his dear brother-in-law wasn't keeping things from Cas now, was it?

"I'll pass it along about the fiancé thing. But I have a feeling my boss will still want the name."

There was no way his brother-in-law was going to let up on this. He was figuring that out. "Sam Wesson, all right?" He shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage. Dean wouldn't recognize the name, but Gabe had a feeling Dean's boss would figure it out and realize why Gabe wouldn't say anything to his brother-in-law. After all, Sam had used that name a few times over the years, namely when they were checking into hotel rooms for the weekend.

"Thank you. Now, let's go see about some food. I'm not finished with you yet, though."

Of course Dean wasn't. But it was a breather, and he'd take it for now.

He made a note to get Sam alone as soon as possible and let him in on his lie to Dean. It would open up a can of worms, sure, but he and Sam needed to be on the same page. At least when it came to their relationship that was. And he'd maybe discuss the whole therapy thing again with Sam. Maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will try to make the chapters shorter in the future, but they will definitely be lighter again. I just needed to get this darkness out there finally to deal with it. Many apologies for the loooooong chapter.


	4. Sleepless Nights in Kansas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, hello there again. Sorry for the long wait. Not quite a month, but yeah... I'm sorry. Anyway, this chapter decided (all because of Gabe and Sam to be honest-or Gremlins really) to be a looooong chapter again. Thank you to everyone who is leaving me comments or chasing me down over on Tumblr. I'm truly loving it. Back on track, what to say about this chapter? Well, it was intended to be fluffier. And there are some sickly sweet fluff scenes. But there's some underlying angst that popped up too. So, it can best be summarized as this. You're going to feel a wide range of emotions for this roller coaster of a chapter. You'll laugh. You'll smile. You'll go 'Awww'. You'll cry. You'll want to hug the boys. Then you'll come after me with pitchforks. And later you'll return to laughing and smiling as the chapter comes to a close. If that doesn't happen, well, I'm sorry then. Without further ado, enjoy. :)

Normally being wrapped up in Dean's strong arms, Cas would have been fast asleep already, especially when they were blanketed in darkness. However, an hour had already passed, and he still was very much wide awake with no hope of rest coming anytime soon. He heard every creak of the sofa each time his brother flopped around out there in a futile effort to get comfortable. As if it would ever happen.

Why Gabriel was even trying to keep up the ridiculous charade was beyond Cas. Dean would get over Gabriel and Sam. Eventually. But who was Cas to get in the middle of that foolishness really?

When a loud puff of air tickled Cas's nape, his eyes narrowed briefly. As Dean's arms pulled him closer soon after, Cas tilted his head back to glance at his husband. It took some wiggling, but eventually he could see his husband's face—and the deep forest greens staring at him somberly.

"Dean?"

His husband immediately smiled coyly back, having been caught.

"What's wrong?"

"I should be the one asking you that," Dean tossed back, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. The same way it had been ever since his husband had come back from the office earlier.

Something wasn't right. The shift in their relationship now was visible and wounding, and it made him want to vomit. He twisted more until he was finally facing the man he loved.

"Dean?" He hoped his husband hadn't caught the way his voice had hitched.

Lush emerald eyes, dull and withdrawn, slowly flickered down in obvious guilt.

Oh, how Cas hated that particular look. He inched closer, pausing when Dean flinched away from his touch for half a second before quickly melting into it as usual.

"Why didn't you . . . _Cas_ ," Dean murmured, closing his eyes in obvious pain.

His husband pulled back suddenly, releasing him. He sat all the way up a moment later, jerking his head away to keep his eyes far away.

Cas's stomach filled with a hundred rocks instantly, sinking him to the deepest depths of his personal Hell. He couldn't ever recall seeing Dean looking so tortured before. It rivaled even the aftermath of their first meeting—and that was when Dean shot him. What had happened this time?

"Talk to me. Please," Cas pleaded, sitting up as well now. "What happened, Dean?"

He didn't see any blood. Nor did he see any marks either. So, then whatever this was it was more emotional damaging than anything. The kids had gone to bed several hours back, so it couldn't have been them. And Sheriff Mills had called earlier to talk to Sam about something, but she made a point to talk to Dean for at least fifteen minutes or so beforehand.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Dean insisted, the hurt clear in his eyes. "And don't go saying it's because we didn't have time or anything like that. Because . . ." His mouth opened and closed several times before the words suddenly blurted out, "You were married! And you didn't think _I_ should know?"

The blood drained from Cas's face suddenly. _What_? How had Dean found out about that?

"I told you everything, Cas. Everyone I was ever with. All of them, no matter how long or short I was with them," Dean declared. "I was honest with you from the start. And now I'm finding out that—shit— _I'm_ the only one who has been completely upfront in this marriage?"

"How—" Cas's voice cut out with a tremble. No. No this couldn't be happening.

"How did I find out?" Dean snapped, staring back as if he didn't know Cas. "My boss actually." He then scoffed, shaking his head. "And then your former one, who was also there by the way, laid another bomb on me how you knew this entire time who the kids' moms were."

Rooted to the bed, Cas stared back with his mouth hanging open slightly. What was happening?

"So, not only were you a US Marshal at the time we met," Dean pointed out thickly, his eyes cold, "you were newly divorced too." He glanced away, turning his head towards the window for half a moment with a severe look. "I mean, shit, man, the ink wasn't even fucking dry yet. And then, not long after that, five months or so, we decided to foster some kids together—"

Cas's face went even whiter as he stared back, unable to move. This could not be happening.

"Kids your boss I now know helped get placed with us. And you and I—we fell hard for them and adopted them for good. Giving them a home and loving them like they were our own."

Dean worked his jaw irritably, cocking his head harshly to the left. He pointedly turned his head to the right to avoid Cas's gaze.

"But, you see, I should be raging about all the lies," he stated, trying to hold the waves of chaotic emotion slamming inside of him back. "I should be damned fucking pissed over catching you in yet another one." He jabbed his finger hard into Cas's chest, emerald eyes ablaze. "Funny thing is, I ain't. I'm not even a little upset over it because I get it. I mean, not really, but you had your reasons I'm sure. Just like you have for not to telling me about your childhood, your family. That you never . . ." Dean's voice cracked, and his eyes broke their deeply profound connection. "That you never likely even—" his tongue quickly rewet his lips "—met your mom, let alone know her name."

Cas leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his husband who was shattering in front of him for some reason. Their whole dynamic had tilted yet again, shifting like sand beneath them. He had to keep them upright, keep them floating while he strategized his next move. He felt Dean tense against him, just as he knew would happen, before Dean finally clutched onto him.

"I'm sorry," murmured his husband against the sun-kissed tanned skin, pressing gentle kisses where he could reach. Salty tears cascaded down his face, leaving hot streaks on Cas's bare shoulder.

"Shh," Cas whispered, pulling back to press a kiss to Dean's forehead. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who held back. I should've told you. You shouldn't have heard it from anyone but me. I'm sorry, Dean." He felt his husband's shaky inhale. "It's not what you think, though."

Dean bitterly chuckled, clearly disagreeing.

"I didn't want to scare you off," Cas admitted quietly, resuming holding him.

"Scare me off?" he pulled back sharply, glaring at him through reddened eyes. "I shot you! I could have killed you, Cas!"

"But you didn't."

"No. No instead I fell in love with you, dumbass."

"Exactly!" Cas gently grabbed his husband's face. "You fell in love with me, a broken man long before the shot to my shoulder. A stupid man who had to have his older brother save him because this idiot in front of you couldn't even figure out that he was being manipulated." He caught the confusion and sighed quietly, lowering his gaze for half a second. "The details are still hazy," he started to explain. "Long story short, you weren't my only mission to go awry. Another undercover assignment I had went horribly wrong. I gave chase in a foolish attempt to apprehend an assailant." He paused there sighing.

"What happened?" Dean asked a few moments later when Cas had continued.

"Without backup, I foolishly stood my ground against the assailant's car barreling towards me," he simply explained as if it was merely about the weather, "and discharged my weapon several times."

Green eyes widened before Dean's jaw clenched tightly.

"I managed to hit the offender but failed to jump out of the way in time. When I came to a day later, I was in a hospital with no recollection. My badge, ID, cellphone, wallet, everything was gone."

"So, you were basically a John Doe in a hospital?"

"Yes. The hospital placed my details into the local database of missing persons, but before someone from the DC office could fly out to claim me, Daphne showed up."

"Wait." Dean's hands went to Cas's forearm. "How the hell did she know you?"

"She didn't. She came across me purely by accident after I had been struck." Cas shrugged nonchalantly. "However, because she had so-called proof of our _supposed_ relationship and quite frankly was a very good actress, the hospital released me into her care. And I didn't have any reason to think any differently because I felt like she truly knew me, so I foolishly agreed to being released to her."

"Oh." He frowned. "So like some cheesy twisted Hallmark movie, you fell in love with her?"

"No, Dean. I could never be in love with her. But I wanted to be. I wanted to believe I was happy and just simply couldn't remember it. So, I went along with the lie, assuming it was real. Only my brother," he laughed inwardly "is the textbook helicopter parent. I had missed several check ins, which concerned him greatly. Naturally, he reached out to Balthazar, who informed him of my assignment."

Dean's head cocked to the side. "So, Gabriel realized something was wrong right away?"

"Yes. And he managed to, shall we say, weasel enough information out of my partner somehow to get the location of where I was supposed to be undercover. Protocol has always been damned in his mind when it comes to me. Two hours later, Gabriel was on his way to my last known whereabouts. He did his due diligence upon landing and checked the area hospitals first."

"Which is how he found you," Dean surmised.

"Precisely. He learned I had been in an accident, hit-and-run, and claimed by my _loving_ fiancée."

"And I take it instead of doing the correct thing and letting Balthazar or Naomi know what had actually happened, he instead took matters into his own hands?"

Cas dipped his head forward. _And then some_ , he mused.

"He managed to break HIPPA and numerous other violations to discover Daphne's address."

Dean snorted with a faint smirk. "Well, I'd probably have done the same honestly if it had been Sammy. Rules and laws be damned when it comes to little brothers."

"Yes, I'm sure," Cas retorted, smiling thinly. "Regardless, he went over to her house to talk. He found me outside gardening, though, and asked me just what the hell I was thinking among other things. I knew deep down I knew him, but I couldn't piece _how_ I knew it. He then realized that and pulled me to the car to get me out of there. I foolishly fought him, drawing Daphne's attention. She told him she'd call the authorities if he didn't leave, and he, well, put the fear of Gabriel into her."

"And a week later I shot you," Dean quietly stated, his head falling in shame.

"No, Dean. You shot me two months after Gabriel brought me home from Daphne's. He helped me remember, taking me to various places we had been growing up. As I'm sure you can imagine, Gabriel wanted me to file criminal charges against her, but I couldn't. She was lonely and was merely looking for someone to love her as well. Instead, I asked for an annulment under the pretense of forced consent. Regrettably, the state we were in didn't look fondly on annulments so instead a petition for divorce was filed. Yours and my ill-fated meeting," he motioned between them, "Dean, was two weeks after I had been cleared to return to duty, and a week after the divorce papers was finalized and filed."

"You weren't in the right headspace when we met."

"One could make that case, yes," Cas conceded. "However, I don't regret a second after waking up to you and Balthazar arguing outside of my hospital room."

His husband snickered, rolling his eyes. "Really? Cause I seem to recall you looking mighty ticked off when you saw us, Angel." His tension was gradually melting away again.

"It was more annoyance at finding myself injured yet again and the unfortunate large likelihood of hearing one of Gabriel's overdramatic lectures on how I was going to be the death of him one of these days, I assure you." Cas lightly cupped his husband's cheek, staring back fondly. "I could see the beauty of your bright soul, Dean."

"Cas . . ." his husband pleaded, leaning into the comforting touch.

"Just as I see it today." He squinted when he caught Dean's sudden sharp inhale. "Dean?"

"The kids are yours, Cas," his husband stated bluntly, guilt-ridden eyes reluctantly raising.

"Yes. As they are yours," he replied with a quiet, puzzled chuckle.

"No, Cas." Dean shook his head. "I mean, that Jack and Claire are actually yours. Biologically."

"What?" Cas's hand flew back as if burned. "That's impossible," he gasped, eyes widening. "I haven't been with a woman sexually other than April, and she—no, Dean. You're mistaken."

"Naomi told me," he explained, chewing on his bottom lip nervously for half a second. "She said that was why she tried so hard to get them into your care."

Jack and Claire were—no—it was—couldn't—wasn't possible. It couldn't be! His head tilted more as he worked through this bombshell. The only woman he had ever been intimate with was April. And it had been a lackluster and frankly rather discouraging encounter where she had cried out another man's name—one of her coworker name's if he recalled correctly. The timing didn't work either.

"Dean, that's not possible. April was—" No. Dean had to be mistaken. They couldn't be his kids. No matter how badly he had wanted to believe it was the reason their shades of bluish eyes or fleeting moments when he'd see himself in them, it couldn't be true. They couldn't be his kids. Because then . . .

"Do you remember going undercover sometime for a fertility clinic?"

Bright baby blue eyes instantly widened in horror. Cas then shook his head violently. No. No it was a mistake. The marshals would have removed—wouldn't they have? He clenched his left hand into a fist and pressed it against his forehead. Jack and Claire were . . . but that was . . . It had been a running joke between them for years, sure, but he never wanted it to be true. Because if it were true, then he and Dean weren't on equal footing anymore. If it were true, then . . .

"Cas—"

His arm came up to brush Dean's hand away. He didn't want to be touched right then. He needed time to think. He needed time to figure this out. He didn't want to be their biological father if Dean couldn't be too—and that was impossible. Because if anyone deserved to have their bloodline continued, it was surely the Winchesters. There was too much darkness, too much evilness, too much violence, and too much blood spilled in the Shurley line.

Cas got up out of their bed, feeling Dean quickly reach for him in response.

"No, Dean," he asserted, whirling around with a wild look in his eyes. "Not right now."

"Don't leave. Please," begged his husband, pleading as if expecting never to see him again.

He said nothing, though, turning and heading towards the door. He needed to get out of their room before he did something he'd regret. He knew he'd have to make it up later when he was in control again, but he couldn't stay there one more second. Not when he could feel the familiar destructive anger rising to the surface, busting through ever last mental wall he had right then.

"Cas," Dean pleaded brokenly. "Please, man. Don't go. I need you."

For a brief second, Cas considered turning back, admitting how terrified he was of losing control for even a second. However, the memory of his slamming Dean down atop of their kitchen table earlier in a display of brute strength combined with the absolute thrill that had been provoked by that action sent him flying from the room soon after. He would do anything not to hurt Dean, even if it meant spending the night on the damn living room floor near his stupid brother.

"Cas, please."

With two feet outside of the bedroom, Cas instantly came to a halt, blinking when he saw the sofa empty. He glanced towards the guest bathroom, noticing a light peeking out from the gap below the door. His eyes darted back to the sofa and to the bunched-up fuzzy throw at the far end. He hoped for his brother's sake Gabriel was only in the bathroom. Though, he honestly wouldn't blame his lovestruck sappy big brother if he were with Sam. He just wished they'd tell Dean sooner rather than later.

Speaking of his brother, Gabriel would tell him to fix this. Because anything worth a damn was always worth fighting for and seizing whatever scraps would come their way. Even if it hurt in the end because it was better to experience love and fight for it than never to have it at all.

He scoffed silently, glancing upwards as his shoulders sagged in defeat.

_Damn it, Gabriel._

Cas turned back, his eyes falling onto his wounded husband who was staring at him.

Dean was worth every fucking thing in this world to him. He would choose him over anything. He had already chosen him over his job. He'd choose him over his family in a heartbeat—except Gabriel _maybe_. It depended on the day really. He'd choose Dean time after time, no matter what universe. He knew their souls were bonded in ways that went above all explanation. Soulmates bonded for eternity.

He quietly closed the door behind him again before he walked back, catching Dean's surprise and quiet sigh of relief. He returned to his spot in bed beside his husband and exhaled gently.

"I don't want to lose control with you," Cas admitted, half-whispering, "because I'm terrified I'll hurt you someday and you won't leave to save yourself."

Dean pulled him close, wrapping him up in his arms again.

"And I'm terrified of the day when you walk out that door, finally tired of my bullshit, and don't come back to me," Dean confessed just as equally soft.

They pressed their foreheads against one another, closing their eyes in a moment of silent solemnity. The weight of the world crashed down around them with all the secrets buried between them. But they continued to hold on, relishing in the feel of the other's offered strength.

"You and me, though? We're just better together." Dean pressed a gentle kiss to Cas's temple.

"Broken pieces and all?"

"Hell, yeah, 'cause we're broken together," he chuckled lightly.

Cas smiled and rested his head on Dean's chest, intertwining their fingers. "I love you, Dean."

"I know you do, babe." he chuckled back. "Tomorrow we'll try again, though. All right? And we'll keep on fighting until there's no more pieces left, and we finish this messy ass puzzle that's us."

* * *

Twenty minutes earlier, Sam sat propped up against fluffy pillows with his laptop. His long legs were folded neatly beneath him, his sweatpants bunching slightly but he was trying to ignore that for now. He clicked onto yet another site—one he had just been on a few minutes earlier.

Etched into his face prominently was the deep frown that had been there for the past few minutes. Who knew planning for an elopement was so damn complicated? At least he already completed the guest list. Though, that had been easy with all but two there in the house already.

He then paused in his research. Well, on second thought, maybe he would reach out to Eileen and Rios to see if they wanted to be added to the livestream for the rest of the guests. Maybe. It depended on Rios honestly. Actually, Eileen was invited regardless. She deserved it for putting up with all Sam's whining the past few weeks about how much he missed Gabe and couldn't wait to see him.

He laughed softly to himself, amending yet another statement. Fine. Scratch out the guest list being complete then. At least he had his vows written, though, and had his outfit for the wedding. Speaking of which. He glanced towards the closet where his suit hung, hidden from prying eyes.

A smile tugged at his lips as he recalled how excited Eileen was when she accidentally came across it. He was supposed to have a long break between cases the day he was going to pick his suit up, but that ship sailed early. Since he was so short on time, he ended up bringing his suit to the office instead of home like he had originally planned. The second she saw it, she declared with a wide grin that everyone would be lucky if Gabe didn't just take Sam right then and there in front of them.

Sam gave Gabe a little bit more credit on self-restraint than she had, though. Gabe would wait—and yank him away as soon as the 'I Dos' were exchanged, and it was official. Then they'd either be running to the seedy hotel down the road from the house or into the guest room, most likely guest room.

Also, as luck would have it, Sam had the marriage license already in hand too, which meant he didn't have to go sneaking out for that later and risk being either caught or hearing a dumb lecture from his stupid older brother—who clearly didn't have the slightest clue that Gabe and Sam were together.

Prior to arriving, Sam had stopped and grabbed the paperwork, overjoyed he had managed to snag the last one they had. It seemed everyone had a similar idea. Elope/marry as the world quickly went to hell. It wouldn't be long before the quarantine babies started happening either, he thought with a laugh. God, he couldn't wait any more. All in all, though, he figured his progress was good enough for right now, considering the entire elopement depended on how bad things really ended up being. He was sure something would go wrong at some point, and he'd have to jump that hurdle too.

At hearing yet another instance of Gabe flopping around on the living room sofa, Sam paused for half a second, waiting for the inevitable. He heard the sofa creak again and shook his head with a fond smirk, setting his laptop down onto the bedside table. Sometimes his fiancé was absolutely ridiculous.

He lightly padded out of the room and down the hall into the living room soon after. He was thankful that what little light there was gave enough for him to navigate his way easily without any mishaps. It was bad enough that Gabe had hurt himself many times already. If Sam joined him in the contest of most injuries, well, he could imagine Dean's reaction to that, and it wasn't pretty.

After a few more moments, he finally reached the sofa, quickly finding his mischievous trickster rolled onto his left side. With hunched up shoulders and head limply hanging over the sofa's arm, Gabe slept in what had to be the most awkward sleeping position known to man. There was no doubt about that he'd certainly feel that in the morning if Sam left him to his misery.

Thankfully for him, the moose loved his sugar-addicted corgi too much to let that happen. Not to mention, he knew from experience (unfortunately) just exactly how much bitching Gabe would do later. And Dean did enough bitching for ten people in the mornings. Sighing with a loving, soft look, he leaned towards Gabe, ready to rouse and save him from a day of neck pain and stiffness.

At the sound of sudden agitated voices coming from the main bedroom, Sam paused and glanced towards it. Idly, he wondered what that was all about but ultimately decided it wasn't any concern of his. Gabe was. When the voices quieted again a few tense moments, his attention returned to his dozing stubborn old fool on the sofa.

His gaze swiftly swept over Sir Snooze-A-Lot again, pausing when he caught the long thin white scar on Gabe's right hip. Yet another reminder of all the pain the wavy-haired man had suffered, and unfortunately likely continued to suffer in silence, too bullheaded to let anyone in, claiming he was fine. Sam knew, though. He knew the hidden secrets, not all but most, and the lies Gabe told to himself in hopes everyone would believe everything was all right when the world inside burned instead. Just once, Sam wished his headstrong jackass would listen to reason and consider therapy. It wasn't as if he was being asked to fight his demons that raged inside him alone. Sam had every intention to being right there at his side. No matter what. For however long it took. But did his stubborn idiot hear that? No, because Gabe was too busy arguing everything was fine while the figurative tornado tossed about his trailer.

Feeling his blood pressure rise, as it usually did whenever he'd see yet another piece of damning evidence of the hell the man he loved had gone through, he glanced away from the scar. He quickly snorted back a full laugh a second later when he caught the absurd novelty boxers Gabe was wearing. _Spank me for a trick._ Sam had jokingly given them one year for Christmas. He had thought Gabe had thrown them out honestly. He moved on then, returning to his earlier inspection, and down to the fluffy plush grey Sherpa-lined throw bunched up around the jerking feet buried underneath it. Yep. Just as Sam thought. God, he loved him—but for fuck's sake Gabe was a stubborn jackass sometimes.

Slowly leaning over the back of the sofa, he lightly brushed back the champagne waves of fluff. He smiled warmly when the rich honey-colored eyes flew wide open before Gabe jerked back at the unexpected touch, clearly startled awake.

"Come to bed," Sam whispered, keeping his voice low so only they could hear.

The heels of Gabe's palms rubbed at his eyes for half a moment, though, in obvious confusion.

"Gabriel," he murmured, his voice full of warmth and love, leaning closer before he gently tilted his fiancé's chin upwards, "come to bed."

"Sam?" His name was said so blearily.

The New York lawyer snickered, nodding back. Damn, his fiancé was sometimes too damn adorable for his own good. How Sam loved these moments of softness and absolute tenderness.

"Come to bed," he repeated once more, leveling his best commanding look. "I'll wake you before Dean even thinks about joining the land of the living again. Promise."

Amber eyes stared back before they slowly roamed over to the opposite wall.

With a sigh of defeat, Gabe finally replied, "No, Sam-who-holds-my-heart. I'm good. Honest."

The deep sea of bluish green rolled instantly. Yeah. He had a feeling Gabe would have said that if tigers just ripped him to shreds too. "You're a terrible liar," he remarked, cocking his right brow.

"Am not."

"Are too."

"If I'm such a terrible liar, then— _oomph_!"

Bingo!

Sam surged forward then and captured his fiancé's lips, wincing in sympathy soon after when he caught a bit of flesh between his teeth. Gabe clearly had barely noticed it, though. They really had to work at this kiss thanks to the odd angle they were at, but it didn't take long before Gabe melted into Sam's touch like Snickers on a hot day. Good. He pulled back a second later, nearly chuckling when he caught the bafflement with wide, lust-blown caramel. "Either you come to bed right now," the towering lawyer asserted, walking around the sofa with his fingers lightly grazing Gabe's bare semi-muscular shoulders for good measure, "or we do this the hard way."

Feathery light sandy hair with dark roots flared out as Gabe's head tilted briefly to the side while he blinked several times, his programming clearly needing a reboot based on the blank look he wore. A moment later, he twisted himself fully towards Sam. Two more blinks, and then like a lightbulb going off, the words finally registered. Hallelujah. Gabe crossed his arms over his bare chest in response soon after in an act of open rebellion.

Hard way it was then.

Thank God Sam had been doing those strength-training exercises lately to get back into shape.

Without a word, the tall lumberjacked lawyer bent down, hearing his fiancé's silent gasp of shock. He brushed it off, though, and hoisted Gabe up and lifted him onto his broad right shoulder. He wouldn't be able to do this for long (stupid rotator cuff), but he knew he could carry Gabe at least to the guest room. That was if a certain sexy someone stopped trying to squirm out of his hold in a futile attempt to escape. He tightened his grip on his fiancé's legs, holding him firmly in place.

"Sam," Gabe croaked, his voice horribly raspy still but surprisingly sounding a bit better.

When Novak squirmed again, Sam lightly smacked his ass in response. He'd be damned sure to hold on tighter to ensure he wouldn't drop the man he loved. He felt Gabe shiver at this followed by a low, breathy moan that sharply cut out. Sam's lips twitched upwards instantly. He knew Gabe like the back of his hand. For the most part that was. The scars were still a mystery unfortunately, but he could understand why it'd be frightening for Gabe to open up about that. He just wished the man he loved opened up to someone finally and stopped shouldering everything himself. Eventually, it'd kill him.

Moving Gabe by a one-armed shoulder carry towards the guest room, Sam paused for half a moment when Jack's bedroom door opened suddenly. He smiled awkwardly back at his nephew who stepped out into the hallway and seemed totally bewildered by the sight of the couple.

"Uncle Gabe was being an obstinate brat," Sam simply explained, earning a slight humph from his fiancé. He squeezed Gabe's legs harder briefly, as if to warn him to be good. As if it ever worked.

Jack glanced between them for half a second and then silently turned away and headed into the guest bathroom, as if he was ignoring the entire situation. It probably was easier for the poor kid.

Five more steps and Sam entered the guest room a few moments later, closing the door behind them. He set his grumpy, sweet-loving chipmunk back down, making a point to move a few steps back to give Gabe space if he needed it. Sam kept his eyes trained on the beautiful rich caramel he loved staring into so much, though, watching him closely for any mood shifts.

Now that he had gotten them where it was private, he realized what a shitty thing he had just done. It hit him like a punch to the gut. Fuck! Why didn't he think? Gabe had just woken up from what clearly was a fitful slumber. Manhandling him like that could have made things worse if he'd been suffering from one of his bad nights. And Sam knew how bad those nights were firsthand unfortunately.

While truthfully it wasn't the first time by a longshot that he had carried Gabe like that, it was the first time where it wouldn't lead to them jerking each other off or fucking one another hard into the mattress. It was different this time. Sam examined him closer, his mind spinning. What if he—

"I was fine out there," Gabe groused finally, exhaling loudly as his arms crossed and his lower lip protruded slightly.

All right. Not necessarily signs that pointed to discomfort or betrayal or any list of other things one felt when they in essence were practically forced to do something against their will.

Did he really think he'd see the pain he inflicted with his actions, though? Looking for anything unpleasant on Gabe's face after someone he loved hurt him was always a bit like searching for a place of safety in the middle of a fierce storm, wind howling around as fat raindrops angrily pelted against skin like shards of glass from how hard it was downpouring. Eventually, that place would be found, sure, but it would feel like a lifetime had passed before then.

When fingers lightly brushed against his wrist, Sam's eyes darted down guiltily. Lodged in the back of his dry throat were words he needed to say, an apology that needed to be made.

Instead of the go-to 'I fucked up,' Sam said instead, "No you weren't." The fingers slipped from his wrist instantly, causing him to turn away with a pang and head back to his side of the bed. More words clumsily tumbled out, as he tried to claw at the precipice of despair before him and lift himself up out of his guilt-ridden pit. "If you were fine, you wouldn't have been crouched up like that, giving yourself what would have been a horrendous knot in your neck." He heard Gabe's huff behind him and stumbled slightly before he poured himself back into bed, wishing all of this would just be a fever dream he was having. He knew was being dramatic, but, fuck, he didn't want to add to Gabe's list of abusers.

"Sam?"

Hazel eyes darted to his fiancé instantly, noticing that the older man was still hovering near the door, his brows knit together. Here it'd come. And he'd deserve every bit of Gabe's anger and hurt too.

"I didn't ask you to do that."

"I know," Sam replied evenly, wondering why his mouth and brain weren't currently on the same frequency. He was in the wrong. Not Gabe. He was the one who was supposed to be explaining himself. He was the one supposed to be apologizing. He was the one who—

—glanced back and met Gabe's petulant but oddly still at ease look? _Huh?_

"Luckily for you," dryly remarked Sam, the words slipping out of his mouth before his brain could cut it off, "I'm fluent in stubborn jackass."

Gabe glared mildly back in return, taking several steps towards the bed before suddenly halting.

"Sam."

Yep. He should not have said that. He . . . should . . . not . . . have . . . _fucking_ . . . said . . . that.

"Yeah?" He tried to keep his tone light, horribly unsure if he had hurt Gabe or not. It wasn't like the Long Beach ass would ever fucking admit it if Sam asked. Was it? But something was clearly here between them, something that had Gabe holding back, withdrawn. If not because of Sam, then what?

"I . . ." The words trailed off before Gabe's fingers came up and tugged on a few strands of his wavy hair. It was a nervous habit that he did whenever he was afraid, Sam had noted long ago. It didn't bode well. "We need to be on the same page again."

The lawyer nodded. "Agreed." He pushed himself up to kneel on the bed, leaning towards Gabe with every intention of apologizing this time. He could use that as a starting point to apologize.

Only his fiancé started talking again, so Sam wisely waited his turn.

"Dean, um—well, that is—" Gabe winced, his eyes slipping further away from Sam's quickly. "Well, I'm sure you noticed dinner tonight."

Huh? Sam frowned but replied, "You mean where Dean kept glaring at Cas whenever he wasn't looking, and you were doing your very best impression of a beach-dwelling hermit, hiding and outright ignoring all of us?" He winced at his own words but noticed Gabe's faint ghost of a smile. "Yeah. I noticed, but what does that have to do with what I—" _just did to you . . ._

"I should have told you earlier," admitted Gabe, interrupting while taking another step towards the bed before he paused once more.

To say he was confused was an understatement. However, as he waited for Gabe to continue, his tongue darted out lightly sliding across his lips while considering possibilities. Did he have all of this horribly wrong? Could that be what was happening here? That Gabe was focused more on whatever was upsetting him after his and Dean's talk earlier than what Sam did? Stranger things had happened before.

"You're telling me now," Sam pointed out, deciding to quash his feelings of uneasiness and guilt and focus on the man who was finally reaching out. If Gabe needed to talk, then he'd have Sam's full attention. "That's all that matters." Because this was big and momentous—slightly confusing a bit too—but Gabe was talking about what was bothering him. He was confronting whatever this was.

The soulful whiskey glanced upwards in obvious disagreement, but Gabe continued. "Dean revealed that his boss is investigating my brother." Swallowing the metaphorical lemon it seemed, he grimaced and glanced down, trying to make himself smaller as if he expected an outburst at this. When nothing was said, he clarified, hesitantly meeting Sam's questioning gaze, "Lucifer that is."

"Okay." Not the end of the world exactly. While he had heard a bit about the brother over the years, he didn't see the correlation. They were safe. They were far away from the narcissistic psycho.

Gabe's head lowered even more.

Weren't they?

"What is it?" Sam quietly murmured, urging him to continue as his blood pounded in his ears.

The beautiful soulful whiskey stared at Sam heartbreakingly for a few moments. Several times he opened his mouth to answer Sam, but he'd close it and try again.

"Gabriel?"

His heart dropped into his stomach, as more pain flashed in Gabe's eyes.

Then came the words. "Lucifer somehow managed to get my number."

Sam stared back limply. The psychopathic older brother Gabe had looked up to and loved had called? Okay . . . he raked his teeth over his lips, biting his words back the best he could. He still wasn't seeing the connection quite yet between the two things. He'd give Gabe a minute or two. However, it was clear that they'd be ordering Gabe a new phone ASAP. Maybe they'd get a joint plan this time.

"How?" Sam asked a moment later when his fiancé still hadn't said anything.

"I don't know." His love shrugged flippantly, struggling with his emotions that he was clearly holding back. "But, um, the FBI had tapped my phone, I guess, so, um, they heard his call."

Sam pressed his finger hard into the fleshy part in between his index finger and thumb. He inhaled deeply, trying to keep the racing sinister thoughts at bay. Just because Lucifer and Gabe had talked—and the FBI overheard the entire thing and likely recorded all of it—it didn't mean Sam's worst fears were coming true—and someone would take Gabe from him.

"And?"

"Lucifer mentioned he knew I was engaged." He lifted his eyes to Sam. "To you."

Large, heavily moisturized hands flew up instantly. "Wait. So, if Dean knows about us being engaged, why did you—"

"But he doesn't, though," Gabe argued with a pained look. "He and his boss only know that I _am_ engaged, not _whom_ I'm engaged to. They looked into my history, my relationships, and—well, sport, you don't show up as fiancé in the book of Gabriel unfortunately."

"Huh?" Then what did he show up as exactly? Close friend who checked into occasional random fancy hotels and spent weekends with him, sometimes weeks on end, in rooms typically for newlyweds?

"They think I'm engaged to Andres."

A harsh laugh burst out of Sam. "Rios? The FBI thinks you're engaged to _Rios_?" He nearly doubled over in quiet laughter. Of all the men in the world, they had all come to the conclusion Gabe was engaged to _him_? An ex who had during their very public breakup word-vomited every slight no matter how absurd or minor it was that ever happened during their time together, temporarily forgetting all about the cameras for a moment? _That_ man? Oh, it was fucking ludicrous. He honestly couldn't wait to hear the lecture Rios would give Gabe over this one, though. It'd be one for the ages. He didn't think anything could top the meltdown over not telling Rios how Gabe had moved on and was with Sam now.

"It's not that funny," his intended grumbled, not quite pouting but not quite at a smile yet either.

"Oh, man. You are so screwed," Sam laughed, his guilt slipping from his mind. "He's going to rail about this for days." It'd likely hit TMZ by tomorrow morning.

"Yeah," Gabe agreed with a slow nod, "and maybe if I'm lucky, he keeps your name out of it. Or did you forget that quaint fact?"

Sam snorted. "Let him. I honestly couldn't care less."

He definitely understood why Gabe didn't want to tell everyone about their relationship. Being a semi-famous director with several awards under one's belt forced one to develop a certain image for public consumption, to make them tolerable, and make loads of money for people. One's image didn't always mesh up exactly with one's true personality of course, but it did make the executives and other fat cats less worried if it wasn't too in one's face all the time. Gabe, for example, was known for his wit and his off-the-cuff remarks, but he'd always read a crowd first and adapt to his audience before he'd act a certain way. Not to mention, everyone knew how much of a charmer Gabriel Novak was, not to mention a habitual flirt. His image had changed a bit with Sam in his life now, but not by much really.

"You're the only one who has ever cared about others finding out, Gabe," Sam pointed out with a shrug. "I'm perfectly all right with everyone knowing about us." He flashed an amused smile, deciding he'd tell Gabe about his silly little secret he had been hiding. "I mean, after all, I have a photo on my desk of us. In clear sight of everyone who enters my office." He then leaned towards him with sparkling eyes. "And it's the scandalous one too. You know, the one from last year at that secluded cabin we got stuck at for a week longer than we were supposed to, thanks to that surprise blizzard? Where I missed a court date and Eileen had to cover for me, and you missed a week of filming, pissing of the studio?"

That had been the most perfect two weeks Sam could ever recall having actually. The snow had come down so fast and so hard that they were buried in the thick, cold blanket of white within a few short hours. Their phones had never had a single bar the entire time they had been there, which Gabe had admitted eventually was the selling point for that particular location. And at first, Sam may have panicked about that admittedly, wondering how he'd get last minute updates for any of his cases. Gabe had kissed away the workaholic, ambitious young lawyer's worries, though, reiterating hard facts Sam already knew. That not everything solely needed to rest on Sam's shoulders all the time, and that he had a competent staff who could fill in for him if need be. Which ended up being the case honestly. And Eileen had knocked it out of the park better than Sam ever could have.

He chuckled quietly recalling Gabe and his many nights curled up together in front of a roaring fireplace, focusing solely on their blossoming relationship and love for one another. "And guess what?" Sam's smile grew as his eyes softened even more, watching the tension melt from Gabe. "We're kissing in it, and we're being that disgustingly pathetic couple hopelessly in love." And, boy, were they ever. Eileen frequently commented on it whenever she was in his office, teasing him mercilessly over it at times. "You know, the one where we're flaunting our perfect love life, full of sunshine and unicorns always, to everyone and making them all so jealous?"

A second later, his smile morphed into a frown when Gabe's eyes suddenly fell and the earlier tension returned. Oh no. What had he said this time?

"Hey." He tried to catch Gabe's gaze, which was hard when the older man looked everywhere else but him. "There's something else here. Isn't there? Something beyond them thinking you and Rios are a thing? Something you're not telling me?" Seeing the honey-colored eyes with flecks of dark chocolate instantly flutter closed was confirmation enough. "Oh."

The pit swallowed Sam whole. They'd get past this. They always did. Whatever _this_ was.

"It's not . . ." Gabe growled quietly, clearly upset with himself over whatever it was. "I panicked, Sam. All right? I freakin' panicked when Dean asked for my fiancé's name."

Hazel eyes blinked. "If you didn't say my name, then whose did you say?"

"No one at first," Gabe answered with a shrug. "I told your brother that I screwed it up again. And what do you know?" He motioned between them. "Here I am, doing just that."

_Oh, Gabe._

"You're not screwing anything up. We're talking. We're communicating. That's one of the key things to any successful relationship. Remember? That, and trust." He lowered his voice, catching the stunning caramel eyes finally. Hoping to lighten the mood, he took a page out of the book of Gabriel again. "And we both know I trust you, Dom," he drawled, trying to imitate his fiancé's trademark absurd eyebrow wiggling. His joke fell flat, though, he realized when Gabe didn't even acknowledge it.

Panic gripped the shorter man. His hands flew up before he scoffed out, "I blurted out Sam Wesson, all right? And . . ." His jaw moved side to side in obvious irritation at himself.

"Okay." Not a big deal really in the whole mess of everything. The evidence would show Gabe did occasionally travel with a man named Sam Wesson. The FBI, the collective of what was expected to be the best investigators, would quickly work out that Sam Wesson was an alias and put two-and-two together. Unless . . . "Did Dean connect the dots?" That didn't make sense if Dean didn't know, though.

"No."

"Then—I'm not following you here," Sam admitted with a puzzled frown. "You told Dean you were engaged to Sam Wesson— _IE me_ —and my idiot brother didn't figure out that he was me. Aren't you happy he didn't?" Since Gabe was still in favor of hiding their relationship. "Unless you're worried about the legal ramifications of—" That made sense actually, but it could easily be rectified, explained away with a simple statement of how awkward it'd be to admit the truth. It wasn't perjury necessarily.

"I lied to your brother, Sam."

"Yeah, and?" Gabe wouldn't have been the first of his romantic partners to lie to Dean.

His fiancé glanced upwards, pinching the bridge of his large nose. He was getting more irritated.

"Meaning that when we do finally come clean, your brother is going to be pissed I lied straight to his face about being engaged and that, _shit_ , surprise, it was you, his kid brother."

"Again, so?" Sam replied with a flippant shrug. "He lies constantly about things. He makes a sport of it actually sometimes." And that was the God's honest truth. "Plus, I mean, he's—well, he's an older brother. He can relate to why you wouldn't have said that you were with me. That you'd be hesitant to admit us being together with him being my brother." He then fixed Gabe with a hard stare. "After all, when you two first met, did he tell _you_ he was messing around with your little brother?" Though, he supposed the fact that Dean and Cas were getting married sort of did that for Dean.

"Well, not exactly, but it's not like we exactly introduced ourselves either," Gabe tossed back. "It wasn't like he went 'Hi, I'm Dean Winchester' to me that night."

"Wait." Sam cocked his head to the side, as Gabe slowly approached the bed finally. "Are you saying you didn't know the name of the man you were drinking with for half the night, let alone the charming fact that he would end up being your brother-in-law?"

Gabe inclined his head, nodding slowly. "Yep. It wasn't until Cas introduced us to one another later on that we realized."

"So, you . . . Oh!" Sam chuckled, slapping his thigh. "Which means when you two were trying to see whose dick was bigger—"

"Yeah." Gabe's face soured, interrupting before admitting quietly, "I bragged about us in the men's room that night. How I had found the most gorgeous man and had shamelessly flirted with him but forgot to get his name or his number even."

"Wow." He watched him for a half a second. "Do you remember what he said back to you?"

Gabe rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his eyes falling in shame. "Yes . . ."

"And?" Oh, he couldn't wait to lord this over them . . . and, hell, tell Cas too. It explained so much honestly about that wedding. He had no idea Gabe had—oh—Dean was going to pass out from embarrassment once they revealed their relationship, admitted to having been together since the wedding. That Sam was the man in the men's room. It was going to be— _oh_. No wonder Gabe didn't want to come clean right away. The two men had swapped fuck stories about each other's brothers.

"Sam," Gabe warned, glancing back with a clear 'You really don't want to hear this' look.

"Tell me," urged the tall Winchester, however. He could imagine the various stupid things that could have come out of his brother's mouth—and Gabe's for that matter. Both were highly sexual. But to learn the reason why Gabe had flipped back to the version from the men's room at the strip club? An answer Sam had been hoping to learn for years now? Yeah, he wasn't passing this up for anything. It had baffled him for a while now to be honest because something had changed.

One moment, wearing a red-and-white bizarre printed button-down shirt (not quite Hawaiian but close to it—that was if one overlooked the white dicks speckled all over it) with dark jeans that had been rolled up to reveal worn cowboy boots, this short man was brazenly flirting with him. He was giving Sam every line and then some about what he'd do in that men's room if they'd had the time. An hour or so later, Gabe barely looked at him, though, brushing past as if they hadn't both been desperately longing to fuck in one of the stalls like madmen earlier. And then the day of the wedding, Gabe's personality flipped again, reverting to what it had been in the men's room. Sam had considered briefly multiple personalities or even bipolar disorder actually in order to explain the extreme personality shifts in Gabe. However, he dismissed it an hour after leaving the wedding.

It had been an hour or two before the start of the wedding when Dean and Cas had both asked separately (according to Dad at the time) to be left alone for a bit. That they needed time apart. Sam still believed it was a ruse, though, so Dean and Cas could have their own secret rendezvous in the church. Because who honestly needed more time to sit with their nerves on their wedding day?

In fact, that alone was one of the many reasons he was glad he and Gabe had chosen instead to elope. Well, actually, it was more like he chose for Gabe in this instance, knowing his fiancé wouldn't have wanted to make a big fuss out of it like Cas and Dean had. After all, what they all had gone through for that wedding, it definitely put off weddings. Who honestly gave a damn about rehashing Victorian-era traditions and parading around like pieces of meat for people to gawk and judge? No thank you. Not to mention, the cost and prep that was required for a wedding—neither he nor Gabe had time for that. No one did anymore actually, thanks to Coronavirus.

At the time, while everyone was in a bit of a holding pattern waiting for the groom and groom to get their respective heads of their asses again, Sam had been inspecting the pews one last time, needing to stay busy so he'd stop messing with his tie every two seconds—and his hair too. Ten pews inspected later, he suddenly found himself yanked into a secluded area of the church, the empty confessional box he realized later in horror. He prayed longer that night. Initially, he had tried to fight back, thinking someone was truly attacking him, but when he realized it was Gabe, he surrendered wholeheartedly.

Neither man said a word, but then they didn't need to really. Not when their eyes screamed how badly they wanted a taste of each other . . . just once. To kill the suffocating tension between them. Sam had been the one to snap out of the mesmerizing spell cast on them first, as Gabe just stared back in clear struggle what to do now that he had Sam right where he wanted him. It had been—a whirlwind didn't even come close to describing it. But when the door to the small box had flown open suddenly and they had both been caught by Mom, Sam decided that once the wedding was over and his role in this dog-and-pony show was over, he was going to finish what he and Gabe started no matter what.

Which is how he had been the one to grab Gabe their second time, yanking the smaller man into the coat closet at the reception he had found earlier. They were an instant mess of tangled up limbs and hissed low groans of pleasure. Sam's fingers couldn't seem to stay out of the increasingly dampening waves of fluff, and Gabe's hands were having a field day undoing Sam's belt and palming him through his pants. Their mouths were seeking every bit of the other's flushing skin they could find, nipping and lapping at times.

The lust-fueled couple's frantic rutting took a turn of a surprise when Gabe had finally freed Sam's cock. There was a brief moment of extreme relief before Gabe's fingers wrapped back around the painfully hardened cock and stroked it firmly, possessively, sending Sam spiraling over the edge into his orgasm, practically floating out of his body at the touch. Gabe swallowed Sam's groans of pleasure almost instantly as Sam came apart at every seam in his rough hands. Thick roped milky white spurts of come erupted out, coating Gabe's pants and parts of the nice-looking dress shirt as well. Not that Gabe seemed to mind in the slightest. In fact, the older man had kissed away all of Sam's embarrassment with a warm, loving smile of contentment and acceptance, stroking him to the very last drop and stating in a low growl against Sam's ear that he rather enjoyed the raw display of possessiveness shown and, frankly, alpha-like tendency to mark Gabe as his.

Unfortunately, the King of Bad Timing™ that was his brother-in-law caught them a minute or two afterwards, drawing the attention of two more.

Sam chuckled, recalling his surly adopted dad's speech on proper decorum and crap at a wedding as Bobby yanked Sam away by his ear. Gabe, however, was getting a biting lecture in return from Jody, who had tossed something at the chuckling troublemaker who was grinning ear to ear as if he had just won a free trip. When Sam had caught the sinful caramel eyes, Gabe winked back one last time and then turned away to wipe away the mess the best he could as Jody laid into him.

It wasn't until much later when the family had all returned to Sioux Falls that his adoptive mother asked if he was in love with Gabe. They had all been sharing a glass of celebratory whiskey before bed, his dad still grumbling about his behavior and how he had expected it from Dean not Sam.

At the time, honestly, Sam hadn't been sure when she asked. It had taken a few weeks of not seeing Gabe, without being close enough to smell the ginger candy he was always sucking or chewing on to make Sam realize the truth. That he needed to see him again, to fight for another chance at happiness, for his white-picket-fence life he had always longed to have.

For once in his life, Sam Winchester wasn't going to play it safe. He threw himself headfirst into the raging inferno of the sarcastic sandy-haired ass. He remembered how he hoped he wasn't wrong, praying to anyone who would listen above, and how it wouldn't end horribly like all his other past relationships. When the one he loved with all his heart and being eventually left, realizing what a mess Sam was underneath his large exterior. Eileen had called him a certifiable dumbass for that.

"What?" Gabe asked, pulling Sam from his musings. He was now sitting on the edge of the bed, his fingers a mere inches from Sam's.

"I was just remembering our . . ." He waved his hand vaguely as his voice trailed off, feeling the familiar warmth splash onto his cheeks.

Gabe's vibrant chuckle filled the room, understanding at once. "You mean, our fucking in the confessional?" he offered with a sinfully wide grin.

"And the closet," Sam added, his grin matching Gabe's quickly.

"Ah. Yes. The wonderful closet," he snickered, his eyes briefly glistening in glee. "Mustn't forget our time in the closet." He laughed jovially before his laughter died away eventually, and he withdrew suddenly. The light switch of personality inside flicked the other way again—back to serious Gabe. "Do you really want to know what Dean said to me that night?"

"Yes."

Gabe blew out a loud exhale and shrugged, as if to say, 'Well, all right then. It's your funeral.'

"He told me if it had been him, and he had found someone he wanted as badly as I clearly did, he'd have found a way to go for it. Push past the unease and fear I had of putting myself out there to someone who was so far out of my league as you are. Just so the constant looming question of _What-if_ didn't hang overhead until the end. And he said if it didn't work out and you told me to get lost, then at least I'd know I tried."

Sam stared at him for a moment before he laughed in astonishment.

"So, what you're saying here is my brother gave you the push you needed to pull me into that confessional that day."

"Pretty much," Gabe admitted quietly, exhaling loudly again as he tousled his own hair.

"Huh," Sam replied, shaking his head as he thought on it. It made sense after all. Dean was very much a jump in with both feet and damn the consequences type of person. Oh, he was sure his brother had some regrets, but Dean tried. He had the most 'Give 'em hell' attitude Sam had ever seen before.

Turning back, Sam paused when he saw Gabe's downcast gaze. God, how he hated seeing that. It was unnatural. His stomach clenched for a second at the realization that there was even more than this. Darkness was piling up all around them, boulders weighing down their relationship. As long as Gabe kept talking, though, the heavy rocks would lift off him for Sam to help carry. At least that was the hope.

"What else?" His fingers slid around Gabe's as he rubbed his thumb tenderly against the back of Gabe's hand. "Tell me." He waited until their eyes met before adding a quiet, "Please?"

"Do you remember asking me about my scars?" Gabe asked so low Sam had to strain in order to hear him. His fiancé lightly pressed a finger against the raised white, marred flesh on his upper left side of his abdomen before he moved to the one on his right hip.

Sam nodded silently. He remembered every time he asked. Gabe would always either shut down completely or would instead use sex to distract, which truthfully always worked.

Gabe jerked his head slightly, brushing back his fluffy light hair. "Yeah." He sighed heavily, weighted down again by whatever was going through his head.

"You don't have to tell me," Sam spoke, squeezing their laced hands as he offered the out again. "I can wait until you're ready." He gave Gabe his gentlest tender smile he had, dimples and all. When he saw the responding flash of guilt, he did his very best not to react to it, knowing his reaction would only cause Gabe to clam up again. And judging by all the signs, Gabe obviously wanted to talk, needed to in fact it seemed. He had never been this close before when it came to discussing his scars.

Lowering himself down onto the bed, Gabe quickly molded himself against Sam's side.

Without a word, the shaggy-haired lawyer held him, offering every bit of strength he had and every single ounce of love as well. As the minutes ticked by silently, he found his mind sifting through passing chaotic thoughts as he waited.

Had Sam done something wrong? Was that why Gabe wasn't saying anything? He was doing everything he could to support him, offering whatever was needed. Maybe Gabe didn't want that, though. Maybe he needed something different than hugs. Maybe—no, that didn't make sense really on second thought. Gabe wouldn't be leaning so heavily against him if the act of comfort weren't helping. Then, had something he said earlier caused this brief interlude? Or was it something completely random instead? Had Gabe recalled something and needed to work it out first before he spoke? Or—

"I told your brother," Gabe finally spoke raspingly with a harsh swallow at the end. His face buried further into Sam's neck, nuzzling against him, as if to beg for forgiveness. But for what, Sam didn't know. "It's only fair—"

"No," Sam interrupted firmly, pulling back and tilting his head down to meet the lost, forlorn honey-colored eyes of his lover. He gently reached up, cupping Gabe's face. "Stop right there. Please." He brushed a thumb tenderly over Gabe's lips. "I don't care about fairness or any of that societal garbage bullshit right now. I care that you're hurting." If he could wrap Gabe up in his arms for all of eternity and take away all the hurt, by God he would with no hesitation. "Tell me what you need."

Gabe's eyes fluttered closed, a single tear trailing down his cheek silently as he drew in a quick shuddering breath.

Heart breaking at the sight, Sam silently wiped the wetness away in response before he leaned forward and pressed featherlight kisses against Gabe's cheekbones, tasting the salt of his tears.

"I don't deserve you."

It was Sam's turn to close his eyes then, feeling his heart constrict at the words. One of these days he'd convince his stubborn mule of a fiancé how ridiculous that statement was. For now, though, he pressed his forehead against Gabe's and waited patiently for him to regain his emotional footing.

"I know you want me to go," Gabe murmured with a sniffle, more tears falling that he wiped away in frustration, "but I can't, Sam. I just can't. The things . . ." His low, crackly voice trailed off again before he drew in a shaky deep breath. "I'd be locked up in a heartbeat. Key thrown away. Never heard from again, you know?" His teeth lightly raked over his bottom lip fleetingly. "Because the darkness in me, the anger and the . . . the pain, it—the second a therapist would hear anything I said, it'd be game over. They would have to report it, and I'd lose you." He inhaled sharply again, even deeper this time, before his hands went to Sam's face, lightly pushing Sam back. His eyes were full of tears threatening to spill over, and there was a sense of unending despair in them as well.

Sam shoved down the instinctive urge to reply, nodding his understanding instead. He knew therapy was terrifying to some. To bare one's soul to a perfect stranger took utter strength and courage. To lay it all out there for someone else to judge (albeit unconsciously often times) and offer advice on things no one could truly understand without having experienced it firsthand. If Gabe wasn't ready, then he wasn't ready. Sam wouldn't push him. He knew from his own experience that this was something that had to want, not something _Sam wanted_ for him. It was about Gabe and his healing after all, not about Sam in the slightest. Though, he was naturally curious. The statute of limitations had to have run out long ago . . .

"But I can't stop thinking what your brother said." Gabe's head came to rest on Sam's shoulder.

Dean? What on Earth had his brother said this time?

"And he's right. I mean, I know he's right." Gabe lifted his head back up, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously as he held Sam's stare. "I don't. . . I don't want to drag you down with me."

Unable to keep his emotions at bay, the sea of bluish green eyes fell for half a second to the thin, pastel blue flat sheet bunched near Sam's feet. Drag him down? He blinked rapidly, trying to focus on anything else than the stinging of his own tears welling to the surface. Fuck, they were really something, weren't they? Gabriel who thought he'd drag Sam down with him, and Sam who fundamentally believed something wasn't right inside him—that there was something freakish about him.

"Maybe we should just . . ." Gabe's voice cracked unexpectedly, drawing Sam's attention again. "I love you," he stammered as his tears fell faster, his eyes so full of pain.

Time gently ended in a whimper.

Sam somehow forced the shaky smile to his trembling lips after a moment, crying silently with Gabe as he nodded jerkily back. _I love you but—_ How many times had Sam heard that over the years? Too many fucking times to count if he were honest. But this one was going to hurt the most.

"Sam," Gabe pleaded, his entire body shaking.

The litany of phrases from past breakups echoed in the lawyer's mind.

_It's not you. It's me._

_I'm just not ready for a serious relationship like this._

_You'll find someone better, more deserving of you someday._

_We can still be friends, though, right?_

_You had to know this was coming. We just aren't, well, compatible with one another._

_I'm just not into you anymore, okay? I'm sorry._

_Hey, look on the bright side. At least we have the memories, you know?_

_I don't know. I thought it was you really, but—it's not. Obviously._

_Goodbye, Samuel._

"I know," he murmured back, wishing this nightmare were over already so he could wake up in Gabe's arms and everything would be fine again. "I love you too." So much so that it fucking hurt, knowing what was coming, what had probably been coming for weeks now. He should have never left New York. He should have stayed far away.

"I can't," Gabe gasped out with a choked sob, his fingers digging into Sam's biceps painfully, likely leaving bruises. "But I can tell you if-if you meant it. That my shit is yours. That, um, you know . . ." His jaw tensed for a moment before he continued, his breathing coming out in waves of despair. "Because I don't . . . I . . . _Fuck_!" he suddenly announced, his hands running through his golden dark waves as his eyes closed. "You're right," he uttered. "As always."

Sam watched him, unable to breathe. Gabe's words were entering his ears all right, but he wasn't quite sure if he was understanding them to be honest. Was this a break-up or not? He couldn't tell. It felt like all the times before at least. And yet . . . He really didn't want to get his hopes up and think that it wasn't, but the way Gabe was staring at him . . .

"About?" he asked when Gabe didn't elaborate.

"I need help." The LA director laughed self-deprecatingly. "Hell, I've needed it for a long time." His forced smile was weak but there. "I can't drag you down, though. I won't, Sam. Because, shit," he grabbed Sam's biceps even harder, "I love you too damn much. More than I have ever loved anyone before in my entire fucking life."

"I don't—"

Gabe chuckled lightly through watery caramel eyes. "I'd be surprised if you did," he stated quietly. "I don't even know. I just . . ." He glanced upwards, pausing to think for a second. "I need us on the same page. Because I can't—" He full-body exhaled, releasing Sam to wipe away the tear tracks and run his tongue over his front teeth. When he spoke again, his voice was controlled and clipped, detached and almost clinical. He was shutting himself off to speak. "My brother is here. _Lucifer is here._ "

"Here as in . . . " Sam felt the bile raise in the back of his throat in dread.

"He followed me from LA," Gabe explained, making himself even smaller somehow. "Dean didn't want to worry any of you, but I need us to be on the same page. I need you to know the danger my brother—fuck, I need you safe." He grasped Sam's face, holding the lawyer gently but firmly. Deep whiskey searched the shallow oceans of hazel. "Do you hear me? I _need_ you to be safe."

Watching his fiancé silently for a few moments, Sam was unsure of what to say or even do. Did Gabe seriously think his older brother would go after them? Judging by the hardened look in the soulful amber, it certainly did seem that way. But Sam could have been misreading Gabe entirely. It wouldn't have been the first time. After all, he did just stupidly think they were breaking up, hadn't he?

"Do you think he'll try something?" he finally asked, deferring to curiosity and ignoring pride.

The few times Gabe had opened up about his past, albeit more than it seemed Cas ever did with Dean, it had sent chills down Sam's spine. The abuse, the neglect, the institutionalized fear they faced on a daily basis . . . He knew he didn't know the whole story. He really doubted anyone did. But, damn, it was so heartbreaking what Gabe had shared with him this far.

"You mean, do I think he'll hurt you?" Gabe's hands flailed outwards. "I don't know. And that absolutely scares me." Whiskey eyes closed as his shoulders sagged in defeat. "Because I used to know. I used to know deep within my soul that answer. But now? I just don't anymore."

Sam nodded slowly, careful not to derail Gabe's admissions.

"According to your brother," his fiancé continued, "Lucifer's been out in LA for several decades now. He lives a block from me actually. How funny is that?" He then scoffed bitterly. "Course that's not all. Course not. Icing on the cake is that he's a liaison for the LAPD. I mean, hell, they'll just give a gun and badge to anyone these days, won't they?"

The lawyer in him considered various legalities he could employ, but when he felt fingers ghost over his left ring finger, they all vanished. He glanced at Gabe, catching the furrowed brows in concern.

"You're thinking, aren't you?"

Sam laughed quietly, glancing down to their joined hands with a coy smile. "Guilty."

"Well, stop that, will you?" Gabe drawled sarcastically before he lightly punched Sam in the shoulder. "You start thinking. Then I start thinking. And before long, room's full of smoke, and your brother is beating the shit out of me."

Snorting, Sam shook his head. "I doubt he's going to be that upset."

"Agree to disagree there, Samshine."

He couldn't help it. The second he heard the nickname, Sam's face lit up like a thousand suns. He pulled his hand back before he yanked Gabe forward, kissing him hard. It was ridiculous and absurd, and yet he acted on the emotional impulse. With his hand against Gabe's nape, he pressed them closer. After a bit, when he was sure he had licked every granule of sugar on the filthy lips of sin, he pulled back slightly, drawing short gasps of air into his burning lungs. Oxygen certainly was good sometimes.

"Wow!" Gabe stated, panting and grinning widely. "Not that I'm, uh, complainin' at all, like, at all, but . . . what the hell was that for?"

Sam chuckled back, his fingers still tangled up in the dark waves of gold massaging Gabe's neck.

"The truth?"

"Please."

"Earlier I made the assumption—well, two actually. The first being that you were upset because I had manhandled you, carrying you in here against your will. And the second was that you were, well," he forced a timid smile "breaking up with me."

The rich whiskey eyes stared at him for a moment before Gabe blew out a huge puff of air. "Whoo boy. All right. Um, well, first off, not sure where the hell you got that vibe from, sport, but no. Definitely not." Gabe twisted his head slowly, pressing several light kisses against the heel of Sam's palm before he spoke again. "For the record, I love when you do that alpha power shit on me." He gave him a soft grin. "Hi, I'm Gabriel Novak. I'm typically a top, but sometimes if the right person comes along, I will fucking bottom like a needy bitch. I have many, many kinks, but nothing revs my engines quite like my big, strong Sam-bunyon lifting me up and throwing me onto his shoulder. Especially when he's wanting to take care of me and do the thing I need but am stupidly resisting because of some sort of meaningless stupid bullshit learned destructive behavior." He then leaned forward lightly headbutting Sam in the chin as a cat would with its owner. "Believe me. I will tell you the second you do anything I don't like." Pulling back again, he then nuzzled his nose against Sam's hand, pressing more light kisses against it. "And, for the second one, well, quit making an ass out of you next to me."

Sam laughed, nodding gently. "Understood."

"Good. Because I'm the ass in this relationship, not you. Trust me, dumbass." Gabe's shit-eating grin rose to the surface. "We don't need any more asses around here. There's plenty of ass to go around with just little ol' me. It's—shit, it's ass-tastic."

Rolling his eyes at the ludicrousness, he playfully pushed Gabe away with another deep chuckle. "You're absolutely ridiculous sometimes. You know that, right?"

Gabe shrugged back, his nose crinkled upwards slightly. "Yeah, but you love me supposedly."

"Not supposedly. I _most definitely_ love you. Even though you are utterly absurd."

"Hey now! I wasn't the one here who thought we were breaking up, bub. Nor was I the one having a panic about the power of consent. You were," he pointed out, poking Sam in the sternum.

"Yeah, I know. I'm an idiot."

"You won't get any argument from me," he deadpanned, his face crumpling slowly into quiet laughter as he spoke. He then turned towards Sam's closed laptop on the nightstand beside him and sighed, his mood visibility dampening. "Work?"

"Wedding planning actually."

"Oh?" Gabe leaned towards Sam, batting his eyes with a shit-eating grin. "Whose wedding?"

Sam did the same in return, matching the low, teasing tone. "Well, you see, once upon a time, there was this boneheaded, stubborn corgi—we'll call him Asshole for this story—and there was this stunning, intelligent moose—his name is Dick—and—"

"Ooh, I like this story already," Gabe interrupted, golf-clapping. "Two of my favorite things, asshole and dick." He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

And just like that, all other thoughts were gone, plummeting off the track and into the gorge below. Sam dissolved into a fit of laughter, hearing Gabe's rich chuckles joining soon afterwards. The bed shook from their juvenile giggles.

"This right here is why we can't have kids," Sam declared, grinning widely. He then caught the troublemaking look and snorted. "What?"

"Well . . ." Gabe drawled, feigning innocence. "I mean, it's been a few years since I've been in school, mind you, but I always thought it was because we both have dicks and neither of us have a uterus. Plus, well, this sadly isn't the A/B/O universe, meaning we'd have to find a willing person—"

Ignoring Gabe's A/B/O comment (because Sam honestly had never known before someone who had read so much A/B/O fanfic in his life), the question tumbled out before Sam even registered the words coming out of his mouth. "What if I knew someone who would be willing to do that for us?"

"What?"

Sam continued, the words vomiting out, "If I knew someone I could ask to, you know, help us have a kid. We both want one after all." They had discussed it many times. "What if I asked her?"

"Uh, okay," Gabe stammered, holding up his hands. "Back up here, Sam-moose. Let's just get past the elopement first, all right? There's no need to rush this."

"Oh." All right then. Gabe had somehow changed his mind about kids in the past few weeks. Oh.

"Hey, whoa, okay, my Big Hunka Love Bear, hold it right there." Gabe then puffed his cheeks out before exhaling. "And here you have the audacity to call me the moody one," he muttered, regaining Sam's attention. "Listen. I would be in fucking heaven with little rugrats of our own running around and terrorizing the dog while we bitch and moan how exhausted we are all day. But, I mean, we have the rest of our lives together. We don't have to get that house, 3.5 kids, a dog and cat lifestyle quite yet. We have time. We can be selfish little assholes a little bit longer before we turn ourselves in to serve our prison sentences that's parenthood. You know?"

"Yeah . . ." Sam nodded numbly, feeling the ache in his chest. "It was stupid. I know. I'm—"

"No. It wasn't." Gabe frowned before he closed his eyes. "I only want to make sure we have a solid foundation before we add to our hot mess of a pyramid that is the Winchester-Novak family tree. Because I don't want it to crumble. I don't want it to end up with you growing to resent me, and we end up sleeping in opposite wings of our mansion full of tasteless pieces of art from the porn years. I mean, hell, next I know, I'm being served with divorce papers, losing my house, my kids, and my husband."

Sam tilted his head slightly. "You've given this a lot of thought, I see."

Gabe nodded, holding his hands out, palms up. "Guilty."

"For the record, statistically speaking, you'd likely—"

"Yeah. Doubt that sincerely there, Chief. Because your asshole lawyer buddy from your firm that you probably go out once a week with for drinks and crap would bring up my unmanaged mental health issues and my porn addiction . . . and, hell, my job _as_ a porn director, and the thought would be—"

"Holy fuck," Sam cut in, his mouth dropping as his eyes widened. "Just how long have you been considering this exactly?" He caught Gabe's grimace and reached out. "Gabriel?"

"Four years and ten months, all right?" Gabe grumbled. "Happy now?"

"You've been obsessing over that for four—" Sam stared, completely at a loss for words. Four years and ten months? Seriously? "What else have you been obsessing over?"

"Sam."

"Tell me," he ordered, leveling his best bitchface.

Gabe dragged his hand across the back of his neck awkwardly, shrugging. "I don't know. That the more I tell you about my life and past, the more you'll decide I'm too messed up, too much work, and leave. That's another constant one. Another is that you'll find someone else back in New York when you return—and I'll find you balls deep inside a leading executive partners of the firm or something when I show up unexpected wanting to celebrate our first blowjob or some such cutesy crap like that." More fears flew out, tumbling out like a kid carrying pebbles they just collected in a ripped bag. "Then there's the whole mess of this. We're basically cohabitating with our brothers and the kids. Which, don't get me wrong, I'm totally cool with, but we're going to end up coming out of this wanting to murder one another—you probably more than our brothers because you have to deal with my bullshit of not wanting to get over my irrational fear of your brother and tell him how I couldn't live even a second without you in my life because when I'm around you I feel whole and good and other shit I can't think of right now. Then we have my actual psychopathic brother out there, who probably is outside right now crouching in some bush plotting how he can kill all of us in our sleep. That particular lovely scenario has been dancing in my head ever since Dean told me actually."

"Wow."

"Yeah. Welcome to my head. Actually, wait, there is one more thing." Gabe's voice turned cold and hard suddenly. "Found out my little sister, my only one, died the day after Cas and I ran away."

Sam's heart leapfrogged into his throat. It was no wonder Gabe's emotions were all over the place. How was it possible that Gabe could even function with all that? Sam would've been a sobbing wreck. "What do you need?" he asked, partly expecting the usual answer of sex.

"Just you holding me," Gabe answered, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "That's all I want."

"All right. Chest-to-back or chest-to-chest or head-to-chest?"

"Surprise me," choke-laughed the trembling form, the strings holding back emotions unraveling.

Sam nodded, quickly deciding on chest-to-back. He flopped down onto his side of the bed with Gabe doing the same a second later. His right arm slipped underneath Gabe's neck to support his head, as Sam's left draped over Gabe for a second. He then pulled Gabe flush, trapping unfortunately Gabe's left arm to his chest. But instead of what Sam thought would happen, Gabe propped up his right arm and placed his hand just below Sam's left elbow. Sometimes, this beautiful man of his was an octopus.

When Gabe's legs parted silently a moment later, Sam smiled dimly. _Message received._ He slid his leg between Gabe's, hearing the instant quiet sigh of relief that turned into a strangled whimper.

"How's that?" Sam asked, hating the sharp pains in his heart as he felt Gabe's silent cries.

"Wonderful." The reply was so shaky and broken. "T-Thank you."

He kissed the back of Gabe's neck again, offering another distraction if Gabe needed it.

"I'm glad," he whispered. "But if you decide you need something more, just let me know."

Gabe's hand gripped his forearm briefly and firmly, but he said nothing. Which Sam understood.

As they lay there together, Sam's eyes quickly started to flutter closed more than a few times. However, he noticed he wasn't the only one having trouble. They both really were stubborn fools.

"Sam?"

"Hmm?" he sleepily murmured back, hating how he sounded groggier than Gabe had.

"Remind me tomorrow to tell you about the scars."

The drowsiness started to recede at that statement. "You don't have to tell me. I can wait."

"I know." Sniffling, Gabe blew out another large breath loudly. "But I want to."

"All right," Sam conceded softly. "I'll remind you."

"Good." He squirmed for a second before he settled again a few moments later. "Sam-heart?"

"Yes, Sugar Daddy?" Sam replied with a warm, faint smile of amusement.

"Could I add waking up to sexual acts of your choice or is it too late?"

Sam chuckled quietly and pressed one more kiss to his neck. There was the Gabe he loved.

"One order of Cockadoodledooing with a side of Good Moaning coming up."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news is... I've already gotten a healthy head start on Chapter 5 so it shouldn't take so long for an update next time.


	5. Monster You Made Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right. Raise of hands. Who's shocked you got an update so quickly? lol. I'll admit. I'm impressed with myself. Anyway, we do have some violence in this chapter, but nothing horribly graphic really. There is a minor character's death, but this person died in SPN too so I don't see a huge need to warn it too much. I just needed someone to kill honestly, and he was the first name to pop into my head.
> 
> I'm sort of excited with this chapter, which means, naturally, no one else will like it. lol. Anyway, thanks for reading. I'll try to update soon. Honestly--I do think I'm halfway finished with this fic. I know that it seems like I'm not, but I think I am. :) Enjoy.

_Buzz! Buzzzzz! Buzz!_

Groaning loudly, Claire rotated her head towards the offending object that was making that awful noise nearby so loudly. Okay, so it wasn't _that_ loud. But it was loud enough. She reached for it, fingers bumping against her cell twice before she finally managed to get a hold of it. Her screen woke the second she lifted it up, displaying the current time on a black-and-white background photo of her, Kaia, and their best friend Alex staring off into the sunset at something. Who was calling at 9:30?

"Hello?" she mumbled, scrubbing at her eyes as she blearily answered her phone.

" _Get on your computer quick,"_ ordered the familiar voice on the other side of the line.

"What?" Claire instantly sat up, reaching for her laptop. "Why? What's going on?"

Her mind provided numerous heart wrenching scenarios for her at the words. Had Kaia been hurt? Was she sick? Was someone in her family diagnosed? Had something else happened elsewhere?

" _Just get on your computer. I'll tell you in a sec."_

She opened her laptop's lid, heart racing in concern. When she caught the incoming video call notification in the middle of her screen, she accepted it without hesitation. She burst out laughing in relief when she caught Kaia's beaming smile as the young woman flipped back her long hair nervously.

"It's 9:30," Claire griped halfhearted, reminded of her dads and their shared hatred of mornings.

" _I know. And I really did try to wait until you got on, but—"_ Kaia shrugged. _"I needed to see you."_ Her head tilted downward into that gorgeous innocent look she did whenever she thought she had upset Claire. _"Forgive me?"_ she asked, lifting her eyes to the screen again.

Deep blues rolled in response, feeling the familiar warmth grow inside Claire's chest at the sight. "You're lucky you're cute. You know that, right?" Claire was rewarded instantly with a wide grin back and sparkling dark eyes lit up like the brightest star in the night sky. The hundreds of butterflies in Claire's stomach took flight at once upon seeing this.

" _So, come on already. Dish."_ Kaia was practically vibrating with pure nervous energy. _"What's going on? Has your dad found out about your uncles yet?"_

Claire snorted. This was what her girlfriend wanted to talk about? "That would first require him to be looking at someone who isn't Dad." She then heard footsteps approaching. "Hang on a sec." She glanced up over her laptop when she heard a quiet knock against her closed door. "Come in," she called out to whoever was knocking.

The door opened a second later, revealing her dad in that absurd 'Posse Magnet' shirt her other dad had bought for him. She had thought she and Jack had gotten rid of that horrid thing the last time they were home. It was like the damn thing had nine lives.

"Hey, you're up early today," her dad commented, his deep forest green eyes narrowing on her.

"So are you," she pointed out with a raised brow, earning a fierce eyeroll from him. "What's wrong? Dad kick you out last night?"

"Ha-ha, Princess Peach," he mocked with a scoff. "I'm making a list of crap we need for the next two weeks. You have any preferences?"

She shrugged flippantly. "Not really. But could you make sure the cake frosting is butter cream, not fondant? No one likes fondant. Not even Uncle Gabriel, and that's saying something."

"Cake?" Her dad stared at her utterly baffled. "Why the hell would I get cake?" He scoffed. "What are we celebrating, being locked up together?"

Realizing her error, she stared back blankly. Oh, crap. Uncle Sam was going to murder her.

" _It's for getting on the Dean's list last semester,_ " Kaia piped up from her laptop.

"What?" Dean walked further into Claire's room, glancing around wildly while clearly at the ready to attack whoever the unknown person was. "Who said that?"

"It's Kaia," Claire explained, lifting up her laptop as she furthered the lie. "We were chatting before you came in." She watched her dad's body instantly sag in relief. However, she was slightly annoyed when he came to stand beside her bed to look at her screen. She swore it was like he had never heard of privacy before sometimes.

" _Hi,"_ Kaia said, waving shyly.

"Hey," he replied back hesitantly, returning her wave. "Any other secrets you want to share?"

" _Not especially, no."_

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "Well, all right. I'll let you ladies get back to it then." He turned his attention back to Claire. "Breakfast is in about ten or so. Try to wrap your call up before then, all right? Or you won't get any of my famous Winchester special chocolate chip pancakes. Got it?"

" _Ooh, can I come to your house?"_ Kaia remarked loudly. _"I only get boring instant oatmeal."_

Chuckling, he wore his easy smile, his eyes lighting up in amusement. "Sure, kid. Come on over. Hell, honestly, I like you a hell of a lot more than her other idiot friends."

Claire's eyes widened before she blinked back her surprise. Dad liked Kaia?

" _I'll keep that in mind."_ Kaia was grinning widely, clearly enjoying the humor of the situation.

"Now, if you ladies will excuse me," he drawled, tipping his head forward, "I have to go wake the sleeping troll who must have been up late braiding his hair last night." Before leaving her room, though, he leaned down like he always did, giving Claire a quick kiss to the top of her head and ruffling her hair affectionately. "Glad you're home, kiddo." He closed the door after him a few seconds later.

She glanced back at her screen, catching Kaia's look. "What?"

" _Don't take this the wrong way, but your dad is flippin' amazing."_

Claire snorted, rolling her eyes as she raked her teeth over her bottom lip. "Yeah. He's okay."

In the beginning, she hated how much affection her dads showed. It didn't seem normal after two weeks spent in emergency foster care. She remembered acting out, usually either by hitting or breaking stuff, and there one of her dads would be, hugging her and promising how it'd be all right while her other dad was with Jack and calming him as well. As if either of the two men could ensure that. It had taken a long time and numerous therapy sessions later, but eventually she gave the men a little bit of trust, adding a bit more each time until she eventually believed it. And neither had disappointed yet.

" _I should let you go, though,"_ Kaia stated quietly, her eyes glancing to something off screen again. _"But I want to hear all about it later at 2, okay?"_

Smiling warmly, she nodded. "Yeah. We'll see." The video call dropped then with Kaia's beautiful face vanishing, and Claire sighed in reply, falling back against her pillow. She was so screwed.

* * *

Stretching out lazily to his full height, Sam snuggled closer to the adorable snoring troublemaker in his arms a moment later. They were still very much tangled up in one another, except where Gabe's left hand had fallen onto the bed sometime during the night. Pressing a kiss against the hollow of his love's neck, he snorted when he felt Gabe firmly press back against him.

Slowly, Sam pulled his left arm back, his fingers lightly brushing against Gabe's right forearm as he did. He chuckled quietly when he heard the resulting muffled grumble of annoyance in front of him. _Yeah. Yeah._ With his right arm pulled back just enough for him to push himself up onto his forearm to hold himself up, Sam's lips returned to the smooth skin he had been nuzzling against most of the night, Gabe's golden locks tickling. Little by little, though, he trailed a spell of feather-light kisses against the craning neck. He paused for half a moment at just behind the ear, lowering himself down slightly before he pressed a bruising kiss hard to the sensitive flesh.

A low, shuddering groan filled the room.

Glancing down, Sam watched for half a second for any other signs of Gabe's waking. A deep snore, though, a second later answered that question. Nope. Gabe was still very much out. Well, shit.

It took a bit of finesse and wiggling on his part, but eventually the lawyer managed to free himself enough to hook his leg over Gabe's, rolling the sleeping brat partly underneath him. He snorted when he caught Gabe's grunted snore of disapproval.

"Big baby," he huffed, chuckling against the semi-stubble jawline as he slowly kissed his way down it. "You asked for this, remember?" He ground his pelvis down then, adding with a low murmur, "One order of Cockadoodledooing—" he then nipped the side of Gabe's neck lightly, his tongue swiftly swiping over the spot soon after "—with a side of Good Moaning."

" _Oh_ , God," moaned Gabe, writhing beneath him and very much awake now.

"No. Still just Sam." He snickered when one whiskey eye opened to glare mildly. It was too damn easy sometimes. "Morning."

"Humph," Gabe replied grumpily, glancing up at the ceiling.

Resting on his forearms in a semi-plank stance hovering over him, Sam smiled warmly. "So, it's about 9:15 or so." His grin widened when the amber eyes darted to him. "So, I figure we have about ten minutes before I have to kick you out and send you to the couch again."

"Um, cool . . ." Gabe hesitantly said with a raised brow and confused look. "Thanks, I guess?"

"So, how would you like to spend our ten minutes?" He chuckled when hands suddenly flew to his ass and ground them even harder together a second later. So predictable. He raised a brow, though, catching the darkening amber orbs. "Gabe?"

" _Whaaat?"_ was the groaned, bratty exasperated response. Gabe was clearly getting more and more irritated the longer Sam drew it out.

"I love you."

"Well, whoopie- _fucking_ -doo!" he growled back impatiently. "We're wasting my ten minutes."

"Are we?" Sam grinned widely like a little shit before he glanced at his watch. "Oh, would you look at that? It's eight minutes now. Time is just—"

"I hate you right now." Oh, if glares could kill, Sam would have been obliterated. "So much."

"Really? Cause I seem to be getting the opposite feeling from you." Sam pointedly lowered his hips, rolling it and earning himself a low groan as Gabe's head tipped back and bared his neck. He loved when they teased each other like this. Pushed each other to their limits. And, fuck, did they ever have amazing foreplay sometimes because of it. He never could give Gabe enough credit for everything he had taught him, how accepting he'd been, and so goddamn patient sometimes. Just not today it seemed.

"Sam, so help me and God as my witness, I will murder you if you keep this up."

"Fine." Smiling with a faint dimple showing, Sam tipped his head forward to concede, his hair falling into his face. "How do you want it?"

"Want _it_?" Gabe's hands fell from Sam instantly before he pushed himself back onto his forearms to sit up a bit. "Sam." He scoffed, his brows knitting together. "What is going on in that pretty noggin of yours this morning? First, you're running hot, which whoa that was all sorts of fucking awesome, now cold. Frankly, I can't keep up with you, sport." His frown deepened when Sam didn't respond. "This isn't because of last night, right? Because I didn't talk about the scars?" He then waved his hand aimlessly. "Or . . . hell, any other hundreds of things I should have said, I suppose."

"No. God, no, Gabe," Sam instantly replied. "It's not that. Promise. I can wait until you're ready." His long legs quickly slid up then before he sat back on Gabe's thighs, straddling him. His hands went to Gabe's bare chest, lightly resting on him.

" _Okay . . ._ then what is this _?_ " he asked, raising a questioning brow. "Because without knowing that, I can't figure out what I'm supposed to do here. And if I can't figure that out in the—" he yanked Sam's left arm suddenly towards him to glance at the silver watch given as a gift for their one month dating anniversary—"fucking hell," he groaned, rolling his honey eyes, "six minutes now, then—"

"You lose out on sex," Sam finished for him with a ghost of a smile.

"No! I could care less about losing out—" He then sighed heavily when Sam pointedly stared. "Fine. Would I want to have sex with you right now? Fuck yes. Always. No questions. But—" he motioned between them "fixing this is more important."

"There's nothing to fix, Gabe."

"Then what the fuck, dude?" His eyes narrowed on Sam. "What in the actual fuck?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know what you're getting so upset about. I was merely trying to figure out what you wanted from me." He was going to be lucky if Gabe didn't punch him for this.

"Your love, my long-locked, gorgeous idiot. That's it. That's all I want. Everything else is just sugar on top of the chocolate-covered strawberries dipped into the vat of caramel and honey with bits of cookie dough dumped in for good measure."

Staring at him blankly for a minute, Sam finally sighed, shaking his head. "Gabe?"

"Yeah?"

"We seriously need to have a talk about your sugar addiction."

"Yeah," he drew out, clearly not thrilled. "Could we do that later? We've got—" He grabbed Sam's arm again to glance at the time "— _goddamn it_ , five fucking minutes now." He then puffed up his cheeks before he blew out all the air. "Okay, Sam-moose. We're going to have do this rough and dirty."

The lawyer chuckled, lightly brushing back the sandy hair, though, as he smiled down. "Rough and dirty?" Snorting, he shook his head. "I thought you didn't want sex? That you wanted to _fix_ this?" He gently rested a sympathetic hand against Gabe's chest when he caught the instant worried look. "Calm down. We're still good. I'm just being a shit." He then sighed, feigning to think for a moment. He could feel the warm body beneath him squirm and heard all the pent-up frustrated groans.

"All right. Fine," Gabe huffed, his hands going to Sam's hips. "I'll tell you about one of the damn scars. Now, will you please, for the love of Christ Almighty, do something?" he griped. "These are our last five minutes together for the rest of the damn day."

"You know," Sam remarked, tapping his fingers against the smooth skin, "we could just— _I don't know_ —come clean? Then we don't have to hide anymore, and you can be in bed with me all—"

"Yeah," he drawled, clearly not at all amiable to it, "not an option. Sorry, sport." He then snatched a hold of Sam's right hand and placed it atop of the scar on his right hip. Their eyes met. "I got this one when I was fighting with Ralphie. I was probably about ten or so." He ran his tongue against the outside of his bottom lip, his nostrils briefly flaring out. "I decked the asshole after I saw Cas's black eye and that damn fucking smirk on Ralphie's face. Either Mikey or Luci shoved me back. I wasn't paying attention, so it caught me off guard, and I fell backwards into the coffee table."

Sam's eyes widened.

"Yeah, well, boys will be boys, right?" Gabe remarked flippantly with a slight shrug. "At least that's what Dad said when he walked in a second later and saw me in a pile of broken glass and what remained of the table with my brothers standing around like idiots."

The pair of honey eyes darted to the far wall protectively then, as Gabe drew in a slow breath. Every little movement he made was methodical, almost scripted in some way. As if he was acting, which Sam supposed was what exactly was happening here. It was a defensive mechanism. One he could understand Gabe would do to stave off the unimaginable pain that ran underneath his words.

"Dad took one look at me, though. Peered over his glasses and said, 'What a disappointment you are. I had such high hopes for you.' before he ordered the others out and then proceeded to teach me a lesson." He gave a mirthless, bitter laugh at this. "You see, when he didn't have his nose stuck behind a computer or in a book, Dad was big on _those_. That particular lesson that night?" His voice turned into granite, unmovable, unnatural. As if it were someone else's vitriol-laced words. "Always clean up your own messes, Gabriel. No one else is going to do it for you."

Sam's eyes darted down to the scar, unable to maintain their look any longer. "He didn't take you to get stitches?"

Gabe scoffed back derisively, cocking a brow. " _Dad_? Taking us for medical care any time we got hurt? Yeah. _Puh-lease_." His voice sharpened again. "We were on our own. It's how I got so good with super glue and stitches. Because it was either lose a lot of blood or patch yourself up and move on."

His mouth dropping open slightly, Sam stared back in utter shock.

"Oh, Gabriel," he breathed, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

"Hey, no." His fingers squeezed harder against Sam's hips. "Come on. Don't." Gabe scoffed again, forcing his smile even as his face crumpled slowly in contrast. "I got out of there. Took Cassie with me on the way out too. And we—we endured." He nodded his head, as if convincing himself of his words. "That's all you can do in those moments. We survived. and, you know, we're moving on. Getting our piece of the sweet cake that's the good life. I mean, I got you, moose. And my little bro—he's happy and in love—and just look at this place, will ya?" He let out a slow, regulated exhale. His control was slipping again, but the long-crafted walls were still holding. For now. "If I look back, though, if I remember, if I even focus on it for a second," he started to admit quietly, "I'll drown."

"Then I'll make sure I'm right by your damn side to pull you up in those moments," Sam vowed, his words full of conviction and belief. And he meant his words. He would. He gave Gabe a faint, almost shy smile, teasing words on the tip of his tongue that rolled off easily a second later. "Aren't you glad now you're engaged to a freakishly tall guy like me?" His smile deepened until his dimples greeted the world again. His eyes crinkled at the edges with silent laughter.

"Oh, you have no idea," remarked Gabe back, his hands sliding up Sam's sides before moving to the lean muscular back to pull Sam back down atop him. "Now, where were we, my marvelous moose?"

* * *

Shaking his head as he walked out of Claire's room and towards his next stop: the guest room, Dean pressed his lips tightly together before his frown took over. Since when did his brother, Mister up before the crack of dawn himself, sleep in _two_ mornings in a row? It didn't make a lick of sense.

He knocked against the middle of the door before he turned the knob and slowly opened it. When he heard a huge crash, however, followed by a loud yelp from inside the room, he threw it wide open and burst inside. His eyes darted around the room wildly, finding only a white cord swinging from the nightstand beside Sam's bed from where Sam's phone must have fallen. In the middle of the bed, Sam himself was flat on his stomach, arms out as if he had just done a belly flop.

"Sammy?"

His brother merely grunted back.

"You good, man?" He hovered near the door, just in case Sam was sick. When he caught the thumbs up, he snorted. "Well, you gonna join us today, Sleeping Beauty? Or should I just have the Beast deliver your meal to your tower later?"

Reluctantly, his brother slowly pushed himself up to look at Dean. Bitchface #74 stared back.

Dean frowned almost instantly. He looked beyond the anger, though, which he honestly could relate to as he liked his sleep too sometimes. But no. Sam didn't use that particular face when it was just annoyance at being woken up. Numbers twenty through twenty-five, yes, but not number seventy-four. Seventy-four was solely reserved for a special brand of bitchiness, one born from frustration at repeating himself about something. A never-ending argument in other words. Dean knew that look well.

That was when he noticed it. Somehow Sam looked positively wrecked already. His long hair stuck up wildly in spots, a perfect floofy mess really. If he hadn't known any better, he'd have sworn Sammy had been having sex in here with something. He glanced at the lone window out of habit, finding it still closed.

"Jeez, dude. What the fuck happened to you?" He then motioned to the corner of his own lips to where Sam had a little something, chalking it up as likely drool or something.

"Gabriel," Sam mumbled dryly, his head falling forward as he quickly rubbed whatever it was away. His long hair hid his face as it fell forward.

Dean, though, chuckled loudly. "Yeah, good one, Sammy." That'd be the day for sure. His little brother and that perverted asshole? Over Gabriel's dead body. That was for sure. If the little twerp knew what was good for him that was. "Anyway, I'm making a list of crap we'll need for the next few weeks. How many gallons of that shampoo should I get? Or will a bottle hold you over, Merida?"

Scoffing and doing an eyeroll, Sam sighed back. "I'm good, jerk."

"Awesome, bitch," he tossed back easily, his heart warming at the silly affectionate term. "What about food? What sort of rabbit shit are you on this week to watch your girlish—"

"My girlish figure?" Sam finished with bitchface #85. "Really, Dean?" His jaw set angrily, and his eyes flashed in pure disgust. "Grow up."

"Wow!" His brother was bitchier than usual. "What crawled up your ass this morning?"

"Nothing."

Green eyes instantly narrowed into slits. Sam had said that way too quickly for Dean's liking.

"Sam, come on, man." He dropped the teasing big brother routine. "What's going on?" He paused for half a moment before he landed on the most obvious answer. The one that would have worked for him at least. "Did Gabriel do something to you? Pull some sort of prank?"

Though, on second thought, that didn't make sense since the sandy-haired asshole was missing yet again this morning. If Gabriel kept this up, Dean was going to throw a damn tracking bug on him. What part of 'Don't leave the house' didn't the jackass understand here exactly?

"Are you for real right now?" Sam snapped, staring back in outrage. "No. Gabriel isn't the problem here."

"Then what?" Dean tossed back. " _I_ am?" He took a step towards the bed.

"Get out!" Sam yelled sharply, his eyes widening as he leaned away from Dean towards the still swinging white charging cable.

"Fine!" he spat, irritably moving his jaw from side to side as he stopped in mid-step. He didn't know what the fuck had happened, but he hoped whatever it was blew over soon. Because a Bitchy Sam was fucking unbearable. "I'm going." He then pointed back. "But before I go, know that you aren't pulling this prima donna shit tomorrow."

"What?" The deep bluish-green eyes darkened. "Why?" he growled back low.

"Because we have family therapy tomorrow at 9, all of us, including the inconsiderate asshole I'm going to murder for sneaking out again."

Sam blinked in surprise, his anger suddenly vanishing. "Why?" he repeated, his tone more curious than anything now.

"Because this isolating shit is going to mess with us, all right? In ways we can't even begin to imagine right now. And I talked it over with the doc' earlier during my session, and he agreed." He started feeling awkward under his brother's intense gaze. What? Sammy wasn't the only smart one in the family after all. "Seriously, I thought you'd be happy about this, dude. Talking about our feelings. Working through shit. Sifting through all this heavy emotional crap as one big family, making sure no one feels attacked or alone or whatever." Showed how well he knew his brother he guessed.

"Yeah, sure," Sam said suspiciously, "what's the catch?"

Dean deflated at once, his shoulders sagging. "Come on, man. I don't want us fighting already. Especially not over this of all things." He held his hands out, palms up. "All right? I'm sorry. Whatever I did or didn't do or whatever the fuck happened—I'm sorry." He caught Sam's pause and relaxed just a second. He watched his brother carefully, a flurry of emotions crossing the younger Winchester's face as Sam stared back mutely. However, a moment later, his brother inclined his head in silent acceptance of whatever Dean was apologizing for here exactly. While he wished he knew what the hell it had been, Dean was rather glad they had tabled it at least for now.

"How are you going to break it to Gabriel, though?"

That was a good question honestly. Dean shrugged, though. "Haven't a clue," he answered honestly. "But—dude went through some shit, Sammy. They both did." He held up a hand when he caught Sam's mouth open. "I know. I get it. Trust me. I do. Cas laid into me about forcing this on Gabriel too. But, I mean, I was just as stubborn admitting I had problem as he is. Is it going to be easy? Hell no. But that's why we're here. And who knows? Maybe this whole weekly therapy shit will make us bond more or something." Dean then sighed heavily. "I just don't—I don't want us to—I mean, shit, he's in pain, Sam. That's clear as fucking day." His shoulders lifted then fell. "Sure, he puts on a brave fucking face. I did the same for years. You know that. And—" His hand shot up. "—I can't get into details, but, uh, let's just say some shit is going to come up down the road. And both of them are going to need us to rely on. So, it'd be good, I think, if we had a foundation or, you know, something there. I mean, other than me and Cas being married to one another."

"What sort of—"

"I can't get into it. Just . . ." His head dipped forward "Just trust me, all right, Sammy? They're going to need us. Both of them."

With a slight frown, Sam raised a hand up, scratching at the back of his head for a moment.

"So, then the FBI really is looking into Lucifer as a possible serial killer?"

Dean's head pulled back sharply in surprise. "How do you—"

"Gabe and I talked last night after you went to bed," his brother admitted quietly. "He told me a little about what you said."

"He shouldn't have done that."

"Yeah, probably, but he doesn't hide things from those he cares about."

That ruffled Dean's feathers instantly. What the fuck was his brother saying here exactly? That Gabriel was the better bigger brother than Dean was? Better friend material? Better human for running his mouth to anyone who'd listen?

"And he cares about you?" Dean replied incredulously. He then held up a hand exaggerating Gabriel's height difference slightly by keeping his hand a few inches lower than it really was. "Little guy? Stands about yea high? Undiagnosed porn addict? Would put every candy place out of business if he ever managed to find those places? That man?" He then huffed an astonished laugh. "Sammy, I ain't saying he doesn't have some, you know, redeeming qualities, but—I mean, it's Gabriel. Dude doesn't give a damn about anyone other than himself these days."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Sam snarled. "So, wait, let me get this straight. One moment you're going on about how Gabe's in pain and needs all of us. The next, you're making him out to be some sort of selfish dick."

"Well—" Dean started to say. He wasn't saying it exactly like that. When he caught the pillow hurling his way, he ducked down, gasping loudly. "What the hell?"

"Get the fuck out of here," growled his brother, shooting up from the bed as if lightning had just struck him. His whole body radiated anger as he took a menacing step towards Dean.

Blinking in surprise, he tilted his head to the side, staring up at his enraged brother.

Okay . . . that was . . . _strange_?

"Sam . . ." A thought wiggled slightly in his frontal cortex as his mind worked this out.

"Get out!"

"Yeah, in a bit," he replied dismissively, waving a hand. "Why exactly are you getting bitchy here? Over him? I mean, I know you two are close, friends or something, since the wedding, but—"

"I care for him, all right?" Sam snapped, glaring back angrily.

"For Gabriel?"

"Yes. For _Gabriel_." Hazel eyes then darted away, as Sam drew in a sharp breath to reign in his temper again. When he spoke again, it was softer. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't insult my—"

" _Settle down. It'll all be clear,"_ sang the familiar catchy ringtone. _"Don't pay no mind to the demons; they fill you with fear. The trouble, it might drag you down. If you get lost, you can always be found. Just know you're not alone. Cause I'm going to make this place your home."_

Dean tensed instantly, recognizing the familiar lyrics of Phillip Phillips's song _Home_ from his brother's phone. He watched his brother instantly rush to the other side of the bed, kneeling down for a moment to grab his ringing phone before he stood back up with his back to Dean.

Their mom was calling again. Calling Sam again actually.

Before he even heard the words, Dean turned away, numbly stumbling out. _Oh._ Good for Sam.

* * *

A few moments later, in Jack's room, the college freshman leaned his head back against his headboard and stared upwards, his laptop resting on his thighs. He wore a puzzled look, clearly working something out. When yet another chime dinged noisily to signal another message from his college roommate, he closed the lid and sighed, more confused than ever. He should have been getting ready to join the rest of his family for breakfast. However, he found himself dreading it.

At an unexpected muffled 'Fuck' outside of his room, Jack sat up instantly before he rushed to his window. Tilting his head right, Jack's eyes narrowed in confusion at what he saw outside.

His uncle was sneaking across the backyard in the direction of the garage for some reason. Unfortunately for his uncle, it was towards the soon-to-be spraying sprinklers, Jack noted with a frown.

Being driven by his inherent good side, Jack threw open his window and called out as gentle yet insistent as he could, "Uncle. Here!" He caught his uncle's wide amber eyes. There wasn't time to explain really. When he saw the sprinklers start to raise quickly from their bases, his uncle too realized what Jack was shouting about and ran quick towards Jack's opened window. They had just managed to close it before the first spray from the sprinklers splashed against the glass.

"You really saved my ass there," panted Uncle Gabriel, running a hand through his wavy mop of hair. He then made a soft noise of pain before he quickly folded in on himself, one hand rubbing against his side while the other rested on his bright neon boxers. "Thanks, kiddo." He gave a raspy chuckle, glancing through his sandy hair that had fallen into his eyes. "Definite contender for favorite nephew of the year," he joked obviously a moment later when the pain in his side had likely lessened.

Jack beamed widely, nodding. Though, he really did what anyone would in that sort of situation. Only a dick would let someone walk into a minefield of sprinklers this early in the morning. He then turned back and headed towards his discarded laptop. He had considered asking why his uncle was sneaking outside in only his boxers towards the garage, but he assumed it was better not to ask. It was usually safer that way.

When his laptop chimed again in rapid succession before it turned into a crescendo of dings every second, Jack threw himself onto his bed.

"Wow." His uncle whistled near the window where he still hovered. "Someone's pretty popular today." He flashed a kind, almost teasing smile before he glanced to the window when it was sprayed again with a wall of water.

"Yes, unfortunately," remarked the young man, opening the lid back up to his laptop before he quickly slammed it shut again with wide eyes. Oh my. That was . . .

"What?"

"Nothing."

Rocking back on his heels, his uncle raised a brow and crossed his arms. "Yeah . . . I smell some premium bullshit there, sport. What's up? Someone sending you death threats?"

"No," Jack replied, shaking his head. It was most definitely _not_ death threats.

"Then what?" When he was met with instant, awkward silence, his uncle started to chuckle quietly, as if he somehow now understood. "Oh." His brows lifted as he nodded appreciatively. "It's _those_ kinds of messages."

Frowning deeply and not liking that Uncle Gabriel had figured it out that quickly, Jack turned away, opening the lid to his laptop again. "I've asked him to stop but—"

"Whoa! What?" The humor in his uncle's voice instantly vanished and was replaced by complete seriousness. "This guy is sending you—oh, yep."

"What?"

His uncle strode towards him, snapping his fingers before holding his hand out expectantly. "Let me have your laptop for a sec." He then added a "Please" but it was clearly more an afterthought than anything in Jack's opinion.

The college freshman sighed inwardly before he reluctantly handed over his thin laptop, horribly unsure if he had just done the exact wrong thing. His uncle unfortunately had a bad habit of being rather unpredictable at times. He waited, though, watching the older man. His stomach dropped a second later when he caught the soulful whiskey widen and then blink rapidly. That was never a good sign.

"Okay . . ." Uncle Gabriel seemed to be at a loss for words for once. His eyes then darted over the laptop to Jack before his attention returned back to the screen. "Who is this guy exactly?" His eyes darted back to Jack. "How does he know you?" His uncle's voice was neutral, calm with his question. However, based on the slight minute narrowing of amber for a half a second, it was all an illusion meant to mask the man's actual feelings.

"He's my roommate."

"All right." Uncle Gabriel nodded slowly before he glanced back to the screen. There was another ding from the laptop in the man's hands. "Cool." The word was said devoid of energy.

"It's not what you think, though." The words tumbled from Jack's mouth. "I haven't been leading him on," he argued, needing his uncle to understand. He truly hadn't been. He had just been trying to be a good friend to him. That was it.

"Yes, Jack. I see that."

Good. Even if half of his friends at school wouldn't, at least he had one family member who did. It made Jack feel a bit better somewhat. He wasn't totally alone here.

"I've tried letting him down gently."

"So I see." The older man chewed at the corner of his lip for a moment, his brows lifting slightly. "But it appears to be having the opposite effect on dear roommate Casanova."

"Yeah." There had been at least forty-two more messages since he had shut his computer that varied between love poems to sweet messages before it turned into chaotic love ramblings. "I don't know what else to do," Jack admitted. "I've told him repeatedly today I'm not interested in him like that. That I thought maybe I was at the time, but—"

"You didn't feel anything when you kissed him, yeah, read that part." His uncle sighed, shaking his head as he handed the laptop back carefully.

"What do I do?"

"Well, that's unfortunately all you can do, kiddo." He shrugged. "You told him how you weren't interested. Apologized, which you didn't really need to do considering how it's neither of your faults really in the scope of things. And, yeah, sure, he's naturally brokenhearted over it now, but you can't force that connection. You either have one or you don't. And you didn't in this case."

"But he's upset now."

"So?" Uncle Gabriel replied flatly. He then softened his tone, likely when he caught Jack's slight flinch at the harshness. "Trust me. You do not want to be in a relationship with a person solely because you don't want to hurt them. That does not equate a happy, healthy, loving, relationship in the slightest." He gently clapped a hand down onto Jack's shoulder, offering a gentle squeeze. "Shit happens, kid. But good for you. Seriously. Good for you for telling him the truth. That's not easy to do. Hell, a lot of people don't." He glanced down at him with what Jack assumed was a proud look. "In fact, I myself haven't a few times, thinking I should power through it to save myself from a difficult conversation. You know what happened, though?" He didn't wait for Jack's reply before he answered. "I was freakin' miserable, and so were they. We started to pull each other down, yell and scream and fight all the time. We went through the motions of trying to fix it, whole song-and-dance routine even, but it just—our connection from before wasn't there once we got together. Our dynamic shifted, and we learned that we were looking for opposite things. So, they went their way, and I went mine. And it was the best thing we could have done." He tilted his head slightly to meet Jack's eyes. "But if this roommate of yours is worth a damn in terms of friendship, he'll realize that what you did was the best thing you could do for him. Now he knows where you stand, and hopefully he uses it to move onto his next fish."

Jack nodded slowly. He hoped for that too. He did like Clark as a friend. But that was it. In fact, he liked everyone who wasn't family as friends. Was Ross at school right then? Was there something wrong with Jack? Was that why Clark felt like he had been led on? Jack couldn't recall a single instance where he had shown romantic interest in his roommate really. Not until he had kissed Clark. And he had done that only because he had been curious as to what a first kiss would be like. If he had known that Clark was in love with him, though, he'd never have done this.

"Uh-oh. I know that look. What's up, Buttercup?"

Jack laughed at the ridiculous nickname, turning to his uncle and finding the man briefly glancing out the window during another pass of the sprinklers. Was the man contemplating sneaking back out again? It did seem to be almost finished finally.

"Uncle?"

"Yeah, Jack-in-the-box?" He whirled back to glance at Jack.

"I said I wouldn't ask myself this, but . . ." his voice trailed off gradually.

"You want to know what I was doing sneaking around out there?" Uncle Gabe finished with a lighthearted smirk. He dragged a hand across the back of his neck as he shifted his weight to his other foot awkwardly. "I'm not quite ready for your dad—Dean that is—to know about Sam and me. Though, how he didn't figure it out now is mind boggling and seriously makes me worry about Dean-o. Because, well, it's rather laughable how obvious it is."

"Oh." Jack nodded slowly. "So then you were trying to act like you were out in the garage?"

"That was the thought, yeah. Not a good thought, admittedly, but a thought."

"You know that the garage is the first place Dad checks when he's looking for anyone, right?"

"What?"

"He has to make sure no one stole Baby."

"Oh. Oh yeah. _Fuck_." Uncle Gabe huffed a mirthless laugh, rumpling his hair up in frustration. "I didn't think about that. His car! Of course he'd check on her." His hand fell to his side as he shook his head. "Crap." He then glanced down at himself, grimacing at the fact he was only in a pair of boxers.

"You could borrow some of my clothes?" Jack offered with a shrug. "They might be a bit tight in places, but . . ." He and his uncle were similarly sized.

"Uh . . . you sure?"

Jack grinned back, nodding lightly. "We could say we were discussing film theory?" When he caught his uncle's surprise, he glanced down out of habit, silently grabbing a clean white shirt and pair of sweatpants from his dresser. "Or we could discuss something else if you'd prefer," he stumbled out, handing his clothes over. "I just thought it'd be the most plausible one considering you're a director."

"Yes, but of the porn variety." His uncle, however, quickly yanked up the sweatpants. "Not sure that would make your dear ol' Dad thrilled—"

Blue eyes lifted up instantly, meeting the deep whiskey of his uncle's. "But you directed _Love Lost in Las Vegas_ , and it won you several awards actually."

His uncle paused with his hands above his head and shirt half-tugged down.

"Eh . . . what?"

" _Love Lost in Las Vegas,_ you directed it about four or so years ago," Jack explained with a slight shrug. "It was one of the few dramatic films you've done."

"Yeah." His uncle yanked his shirt down the rest of the way to cover himself with a thoughtful look. "It was. Most people haven't even heard of it, much less know I won anything for it."

Jack's grin widened into a bright beaming one. "I liked the story. It wasn't overly romantic like most films are. Like, it was there, but it wasn't what the story was necessarily about. And it was interesting how you shot it the way you did. Where we're led to believe it's all about the couple losing each other, breaking up, only to find out later they didn't actually—it was merely an intentional misstep taken to trip up the audience instead. That what we thought we knew at the beginning of the movie was merely a stray thought by the main character on what if he had chosen the other option. It was extremely introspective and deep."

Uncle Gabe snorted appreciatively. "Wow. Glad someone appreciated it."

"Yeah. It wasn't as good of a story, though, as your _Hazy Wedding._ " Jack's eyes narrowed when his uncle immediately doubled over laughing. "What?"

"Oh, Jack, my boy," Uncle Gabe chuckled loudly, shaking his head. "If you only . . . oh, kiddo."

"What?" He cocked his head to the left, frowning in confusion. What was he missing?

" _Hazy Wedding_ is loosely, and I mean loosely, based on your Dads' Wedding."

Jack's jaw dropped.

"Wait. Are you saying . . . but . . ." Oh! Oh, wow! That explained so much about that movie. He found himself replaying parts in his mind, wondering which was real and which was fake. His eyes then darted back to his uncle's. "The scene in the men's room, between the Men of Honor—" His voice cut out sharply the second he caught the deep red coloring on his uncle's cheeks.

"Don't ever let your Uncle Sam see that movie, okay?"

"How much of it . . . " _Oh._

Uncle Gabe winced, scratching at his neck as his eyes fled far from Jack's.

"Wait. So, that actually happened?!"

"It's not word for word, but yeah." His uncle waved a hand.

Jack couldn't help it. The words tumbled out. "That's Dad's favorite part."

"What?" The red instantly turned white in Uncle Gabe's face as the amber widened comically.

"Dad. That part is his favorite from your movie."

"Dean or Cas?" his uncle breathed.

"Dean."

Jack and his uncle stared at one another in absolute silence for several moments, the admission sitting heavily between them. As more awkwardness settled in, more truths came tumbling out.

"Dad always shouts at that scene Justin should have went for it. Not cared what his asshole big brother would have thought. Because the chemistry was too electrifying between Justin and Reginald."

"Y-your dads have seen it?"

Jack nodded slowly, seemingly as horrified as Uncle Gabe was at this revelation.

"Oh . . . _shit_."

"They always make a point in watching your movies at least once when it comes out to support you. I'm not certain about the pornography ones, but I know they prominently display the non-kind on the shelf next to Dad's Western collection."

Uncle Gabe's head fell forward instantly before he blew out the largest exhale Jack had ever heard. The man seemed absolutely horrified by this. Though, depending on how much of the actual events and/or lines were used, it could be understandable.

Jack watched him silently, noticing the panicky look in the older man's face. It was honestly his dad's go-to movie of Uncle Gabe's if they all needed a quick laugh. In fact, he could recall them all gathered up in the living room shortly his dad had returned from wherever he had been held for two weeks by whoever had kidnapped him. It had been the first time he could recall his dad seeming more like himself after coming home from the hospital.

"Would it be so terrifying if my father learned of you two, though?" Jack asked innocently, digesting the new info and considering it. The couple wouldn't need to sneak and lie anymore.

"Trust me, kid. It'd make things so much easier if I could just come out and say 'Hey, man, I love your brother with all my heart, and I can't wait until he and I are married." Uncle Gabe's tone then softened and took a bit more of a somber, withdrawn edge to it. "Only I know how this story pans out. Hell, I've lived it before with an old flame." His eyes briefly closed as he glanced away. When he spoke again, it was a mere whisper. "I'm not the type of guy anyone wants for their brother."

Jack's eyes narrowed in confusion. What did his uncle mean? From what he had seen, Uncle Gabe was extremely loyal, wise, and protective of those he loved. While the man had some rough edges, like his juvenile antics he pulled occasionally or bouts of inappropriate humor, he did have his moments like earlier with the messages from Clark. He had quickly morphed into adult mode.

"Perhaps you can discuss this with Dr. Tennant," Jack offered kindly, watching his uncle's eyes dart back to him. "Inform him you'd like to work on developing a friendship with Dad. That there are things between you that you both need to resolve but don't know how to do."

When there was a light knock to his door a second later, he caught his uncle suddenly tensing. He said nothing, though, thankful that Uncle Gabe hadn't flown into his closet or out his window quite yet. His door opened a second later, though, regaining his attention.

"Hey." His dad stepped inside his room soon after, pausing when he saw Uncle Gabe hovering near the window again. "What are you doing in here?"

"He was helping me with my film study class," Jack coolly replied, motioning to his laptop.

"Cool." His dad then shrugged. "Well, you guys comin' or not? Food's gettin' cold."

"Yeah. Let me just save this." He randomly clicked on things, glancing at his screen. He hated lying, but if it helped put Uncle Gabe at ease for a bit, he'd do it. It was only a little white lie after all.

* * *

It had taken a bit to find this particular hiding spot as the neighborhood was full of open spaces and nosy neighbors. However, from the top of a large old oak that overlooked the Winchester property, he could essentially hunker down for days inside his broad leafy nest that hid him perfectly. And that was precisely the plan. He could see everything from up here.

He had seen his silly little brother sneaking about in those ridiculously flashy boxers. Honestly, he wondered about his brother's sanity sometimes. How on earth was it possible that Gabriel had thought _those_ were a good idea? Though, he supposed the flashier was the better nowadays for him.

He had watched the boy, who reminded him so much of a younger Castiel in fact, throw open a window and save Gabriel from the unfortunate disaster of the sprinklers. He had observed the family later during their obviously awkward as fuck breakfast. His vantage point didn't give him access to everyone's faces, though, but no one could quite read body language like him after all. Dear ol' Dad had taught him that skill. Among so many others that he relied on these days.

A wry smile made its way to his lips after breakfast finally finished. The rest of the family had left the room. The tall giant of a man who had a habit of hovering near Gabriel had gently touched his brother's hand during a quiet, stolen moment. He examined the tender scene between the obvious couple. When he caught their affectionate embrace that led into a kiss, he rolled his dark eyes to the heavens. His dear brother—ever the romantic.

Turning away to give Gabriel and his fiancé a moment of privacy, he looked through the kitchen window then. He snorted when he caught his baby brother crowded against a fridge by what he assumed was his brother-in-law, Dean Winchester. He had met the man only once. And from what he had learned from that meeting was that his brother-in-law would do anything for Castiel, would give anything.

When a door screeched open a second later, he turned away from the happy lovers to the patio. His eyes briefly narrowed at the sight of Gabriel and the tall lumberjack walking out, with the fiancé closing the sliding glass door behind them. Hmm, this was new. He found himself curious by this turn.

"I'm going to run out for a bit."

"Why?" Gabriel asked, his brows furrowing in confusion. He relaxed at the gentle touch to his chest, though, a second later.

"Because our rings came in."

Gabriel's head swiveled towards the patio paranoid before he turned back, his voice lowering. "I thought we were going to pick them out together, Sam." The hurt was evident in the tone.

The shaggy lumberjack chuckled, though, gently patting Gabriel's chest.

"We are." His grin widened as his eyes sparkled in amusement.

"Then why are you—"

"It's not _those_ rings, Gabe."

"Then— _OH_!" His brother's eyes widened as he let out a strangled half-chuckle and half-snicker. He was nearly salivating at the prospects. "Sam-shine, you, _oh_ , you are a bad, bad boy." Gabriel glanced over his shoulder towards Dean who likely had his tongue halfway down Castiel's throat. Neither of them likely could see it from their angle though. "Why did—we're at our brothers' house, you know?"

"I know."

Oh, young love. How it burned so brightly, so intensely. From his perch up high, he recalled similar moments between him and the detective back out in LA. All the innuendos. All the tension. All the flirting. All the sizzling electricity between them. The promises of a better life. Of a lifetime of stolen kisses and so much more.

And then it all fell apart.

Like always.

And his past caught up to him, threw him back into the depths of Hell he had been forced to endure all those lifetimes ago. He had been a different person then. A monster his father made him be.

He had believed he had finally shed all of it. He so longed to leave all that darkness behind.

But Fate—the cruel bitch she was—had other plans for him obviously.

So here he was.

Apart from his love, from his beautiful Chloe. His detective. Who believed he was a good man despite all the evilness that had been a part of his life forever. That his father had thrust onto him time and time again.

But he had to do this.

For her.

For them.

So, they could be together.

Finally.

"Sam," sighed his little brother below suddenly, filling the air with his desire. The engaged couple was sharing yet another stolen moment together.

When the dark eyes noticed Sam's hands slide over Gabriel's pockets in search of something, the voyeur Shurley tilted his head curiously.

_What are you up to, Samuel?_

He then observed the man step back from Gabriel a second later, a warm, loving smile gracing his face as his hands stuffed inside his own pockets.

"You are an evil man, Sam Winchester," remarked Gabriel, his whiskey eyes twinkling in glee.

"Strangely enough, you know, I've been told that before," Sam teased, chuckling quietly. "I'll be back shortly."

"Yeah. Yeah. Just don't wreck Cassie's shitty truck, all right?"

"I'm not taking his truck."

Gabriel seemed confused for a moment. "How are you getting there then?"

Sam laughed back, the laughter echoing up into the treetops. He pressed a quick loving peck to Gabriel's cheek. "I'm going to run, Gabe." He then turned away, calling over his shoulder as he slid the patio door back open, "Don't worry, though. I'll grab my phone."

Dark eyes darted from Sam to his little brother, who stood staring up at the heavens. He could see the concern in Gabriel's eyes. When he realized a second later that his brother was praying, he glanced away guiltily and turned his attention back onto Sam. His head tilted slightly when he caught Sam pause beside the kitchen table (Cas and Dean had left the kitchen it appeared). The tall giant with long luscious locks glanced back before he turned and grabbed the phone off the charger. He walked further into the house and out of sight a moment later.

When Gabriel turned back and his shoulders instantly hunched up, more curiosity spiked inside.

"Sam . . ." He then strode back into the house, reaching for the remaining phone sitting on the table. He disappeared from eyesight for several moments before he returned outside with the phone in his hands. "Take your phone, my ass, Sam Winchester," Gabriel muttered under his breath with a hard shake of his head. He then glanced upwards. "Don't take him from me."

From the nest he crouched in, Lucifer tensed, hearing the raw emotion in his brother's voice.

"Please? You've taken so much from me already," his brother declared, his eyes pressed closed. "Please don't fucking take Sam too. I need him. Please keep him safe. Please!" The amber eyes then opened. A few tears slid down his cheeks, which he wiped away with the back of his hand. "I beg you, Lucifer. Not Sam. If you . . . if you ever loved me, Brother, then don't take him from me."

_Oh, Gabriel . . ._

His brother then whirled around and headed back inside, the patio door sliding shut behind him.

He sat there crouched down for a few more moments. His heart raced as his mind replayed his little brother's pleas. He drew in a shaky breath, the words stinging more than they should have.

" _I love you,"_ a teary whispered memory of his love murmured in his mind.

" _Shh. Shh, Detective. Don't speak. I have you. I have you, Chloe. I will always have you."_

His head turned sharply away, wishing the memories from a few days ago wouldn't have chosen to assault him right then. His fingers dug deep into the bark, his nails pulling some up. He drew in a quick, deep breath, willing himself to release the pain again. When he blinked again, he felt the familiar emptiness settle inside, the coldness he needed to survive.

Chloe was alive. Safe in LA. Protected as it should be. She was injured, yes, but he had managed to reach her in time. His beautiful Chloe. His first love. His vulnerability and weakness. Just as Sam was Gabriel's, and Dean was Castiel's. And vulnerabilities were always the first casualties in war.

* * *

It had taken some time. More than he would have liked, but eventually he figured out where Sam was headed. Thankfully, the foolish man had taken Gabriel's phone, so it made it easier to track the man. He kept his distance, sticking to the shadows as much as he could. However, he had noticed at least ten minutes back that he wasn't the only one trailing poor Sam.

They had all converged onto some strip mall. Thankfully, Sam had found a distraction of a bookstore to duck into, which gave Lucifer the opportunity to deal with the first of the two annoying tails that had been following. He had dealt with the man easily enough. His training from long ago slipped back into place as if he had never lost a step. He had let Bartholomew get close enough to him that all he had to do was sidestep and trip the man into oncoming traffic. When he turned back, feigning horror as he shouted for help, he caught the other lackey's fearful look. Good. She should be scared. He easily slipped out of the growing crowd of onlookers, practiced with such ease really.

He then ducked into the bookstore himself, glanced across the aisle at Sam when he found him, and then headed off towards the next destination of his soon-to-be brother-in-law. He walked into the nearby store, head held up high.

"Hello," greeted stiffly a young man who clearly hated his minimum wage job.

"Hello," Lucifer drawled back with a polite smile, masking his British accent. He kept his head tilted down so the annoying stolen baseball cap covered his face well enough. "Tell me. How would you like to earn a quick $600?" he asked, heading towards the lone employee.

"What?"

He chuckled lightly. "Ah, yes. Forgive me." He dipped his head lower, his grin widening as he noted the young man's curiosity. "I'm willing to pay you $600, no questions asked, if you head into the back for twenty minutes and allow me the chance to pretend to be you. It's a little game, you see? I merely want to see if it'd work. I'm curious, you understand?"

"Yeah . . . "

He held up a hand, forcing himself not to react to the delay. "I understand. You are afraid for your job. Just one customer. That's it. And I will reward you handsomely for it. Perhaps sweeten the pot maybe. Will $800 do it?"

The kid's eyes narrowed on him before he shrugged. "You just want to help one customer?"

"That's it. One customer. Scout's honor." He then flashed his most charming smirk that always worked. "It'll be our little secret, Brandon. Hmm?"

"Whatever." The kid sighed. "Do you know how to use a register?"

"Oh, yes. I'm quite familiar."

"Cool." The kid shook his head, removing his vest and handed it over. "If you need anything, I'll be back there on break. Have fun, weirdo." He then headed into the back.

Lucifer quickly slipped into the vest and took a quick peek around at the cameras. There was no way to do this without being seen, but he needed to speak with Sam. Just once. He removed his cap, dropping it onto the floor behind the display case and waited. It wasn't long before he caught the tall Winchester heading his way. Excellent. Showtime.

The bell above the door rang out as Sam walked inside.

"Welcome to Radio Shed," Lucifer stated warmly. It felt weird not to speak with his usual British accent, hiding it behind his actual voice that he hadn't truthfully used since he was seventeen. He calmly watched his soon-to-be brother-in-law approach. "How may I help?"

Sam returned his smile with a quiet, albeit awkward chuckle. "Hello. Um, my fiancé had an accident with his phone this morning." He slowly pulled the remains of a mangled cellphone from his pocket. "He dropped it, and I was just—I was wondering if by chance we could fix it at all." He handed it out carefully.

Lucifer gently grabbed the broken phone, his eyes flicking down to it. He whistled instantly and shook his head. "Well, it would seem your fiancé was very careless with his phone, wasn't he?" The screen was most definitely cracked. In fact, so was the outside cover by his estimate. He could even see parts of the inside that he was certain he really shouldn't be seeing. "Did he run this over?" When he caught Sam's guilty glance down, his brow lifted. "I see." He shook his head. "Unfortunately, this is beyond repair. So your fiancé will need to purchase a new phone. Do you happen to know by chance if he happened to back his phone up ever?"

"Yeah. Um, about twenty or so minutes ago ironically enough." Sam forced his smile more, trying to appear calm but clearly uneasy about the obvious lie.

Lucifer nodded slowly. "Ah. Dumb luck strikes again," he stated quietly, clearing his throat before his eyes fell back to the mangled pieces. "Did he happen to state what phone he'd like this time?"

"Not really. I mean, well—" Sam then sighed heavily, brushing back his long hair. "I accidentally drove over it this morning. So, if you could get the same kind, that'd be good."

"I'll see if I have one in back," Lucifer stated before he turned away. He'd need the kid for this part unfortunately. He was good with faking, but technological matters sometimes confused him at times. And the kid might as well earn his $800 somehow. He pushed open the door, stepping inside and finding the young man at a card table playing on his phone. He sighed inwardly. "Brandon?"

The kid's head jerked upwards in surprise.

"What sort of phone is this?"

Brandon's eyes darted to it before he replied, "A broken one, dude."

Lucifer glared mildly back. "Yes, I'm aware of that. However, the customer out there would like the exact same model his fiancé's phone is."

"Oh, well, that's the latest iPhone. Runs a pretty penny actually."

"Lovely." He then forced his smile a bit more, just barely holding back from strangling the child. "Do you think perhaps you could transfer the data from this one to a new one? The customer states his fiancé luckily backed up all the old data." When he caught Brandon's groan, he added, "I'll add another $200 for you?"

"Yeah, I think I can do that," the kid replied cheering up instantly. "Give me a few seconds." Brandon then headed towards a shelf and pulled out a box, opening it and setting off to work. "We're going to need fiancé's password."

"Try 'Cherry Pop'," Lucifer sighed quietly.

"Hey, that's—how did you know that?" Brandon asked, staring at him in confusion.

"The man had given it to me before I came back here."

"Oh. Cool." Brandon finished setting it up, returning to his work.

Lucifer snorted.

It had been by a stroke of luck that his brother hadn't changed that much over the years. The password was the same password as the one he had used for everything since they were kids it seemed. It likely was the easiest thing Gabriel could recall if he had to guess.

A second later, Brandon handed the new phone to him. "Here you go. Everything's downloaded and set up."

Inclining his head, he chuckled, taking it from Brandon. "Thank you. I'm almost finished."

"All right. Cool. Whatever, dude." The kid sat back down, returning to whatever game he was playing on his phone.

Lucifer whirled back, striding back out. His eyes narrowed at Sam bent over near phone cases.

"I apologize about the wait."

"No. It's fine," Sam replied, waving it away with a smile. "It's all finished, though?"

"Yes. All finished." He held the phone out before he motioned to the cases. "Should I add one?"

"Yeah. Probably should." Sam chuckled, dragging a hand through the back of his hair. "Only I can't decide between the gummy bears or the Skittles."

Lucifer forced a light smile, keeping his voice even. "If your fiancé has a bit of a sweet tooth and likes candy, then perhaps the half-opened Wonka bar one would be best." He then pointed at it. When he saw Sam's eyes light up, he felt his insides knot slightly. The hopelessly in love idiots were made for one another. There was no denying it. "My late sibling loved Wonka growing up. It was his favorite book actually. He'd have me read it two or three times a month sometimes."

Sam smiled faintly. "Sounds like he and my fiancé would get along famously."

"Perhaps." He headed back to the register, ringing the items up then. He smiled when Sam silently slid a card in without a word once the price popped up. "Is there anything else?"

"No. I think we got everything. Thank you."

"Of course," Lucifer drawled, inclining his head. "Thank you for choosing Radio Shed for all your needs." He forced a laugh. "Sorry. Company policy."

"Yeah." Sam shook his head. "Thanks again."

"Of course." He watched his soon-to-be brother-in-law walk towards the door. "Congratulations by the way." He remained stone-faced when Sam whirled back in surprise. "On your engagement, I mean. I wish you both all the best."

Sam nodded hesitantly before he sighed quietly. "Thanks. It still seems a little, you know, farfetched sometimes."

"Oh?"

He waved it away, though.

"May I ask when the lucky date is?" Lucifer drawled quietly.

Sam's face lit up again as he smiled, glancing down shyly. "Almost two weeks from now. I don't want to wait anymore, you know? Not with all that's going on."

"Ah. Makes perfect sense."

Lucifer himself was tired of waiting with Chloe, but something always popped up and pulled them apart from one another. Good for them for living their lives, though.

"Thanks for the phone and case."

"Anytime," Lucifer replied, inclining his head. He then watched him walk out of the store and sighed inwardly. Sam was definitely more of an open book than Dean had ever been. He could see why Gabriel would have fallen for Sam. The man was certainly charming after all. And so damn warm. Hell, he practically gave off puppy love and something to protect and die for honestly. He turned back, heading into the back. "All right, Brandon. Here's your—" He cut himself off when he saw the knife pressed against the young man's throat. "Ah. Hannah. I was beginning to think you had gotten lost."

"What are you doing, Lucifer?" Hannah asked quietly, the blade pressing a bit harder against Brandon's neck unfortunately. A tiny droplet of blood ran down his young neck.

"Me?" He shrugged flippantly. "Nothing. I'm doing absolutely nothing. You?"

"I'm here to deliver you a message from your father."

"Really? What's the message?" He just barely kept back from hissing. Oh, he knew exactly what the damn message was. It never strayed in the past twenty-seven years. He doubted it would now.

"Play your role, Lucifer."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes. "My role?" His smile quickly turned into a dark sneer. "Oh, Hannah. I'm afraid you'll find that ship has already sailed long ago." His eyes darkened as he glared at her. "So, you're going to deliver a message back to dear ol' Dad for me." He caught Brandon's trembling and sighed inwardly. He hadn't wanted it to come to this, but it was the hand he was dealt with unfortunately. And what a shitty hand it was.

Lucifer surged forward, kicking out Brandon's legs and sending the poor boy sprawling onto the ground. He ignored the young man's cries and instead focused all his energy on Hannah. His hand wrapped around her throat, squeezing it before he yanked her towards the back door where deliveries likely were brought inside. He didn't bother to glance back at Brandon. He did, however, hope the kid was all right. He was a good young man after all who didn't deserve this.

With how tightly he held Hannah's neck, he knew he was likely keeping her silent for the time being long enough to get her outside at least. The second they were free of the building, he slammed her back against the closed door and glared murderously.

"So, dear ol' Dad sent you, did he?" he spat. "Do you have any idea who you're messing with here, Hannah? Hmm?" He leaned towards her, pressing his weight against her throat as she struggled to push him back. "I won't kill you, though. But you will pass along my message to Pops for me." He caught her eyes widening slightly, likely understanding that he was sparing her life which might as well be signing her death certificate later. "If you want them, Dad, you're going to have to go through me. And I think you saw what happens to your pets when you went after Chloe. They are mine. So, back off, Dad. Or I'll show you just the kind of rebellious monster you made me be." He tossed her aside a moment later, calmly walking away. If Dad wanted a monster, he'd get one then.


	6. Blind Spots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite a month before the last update. So sorry for all the frustrating breaks. I'm definitely working on this fic whenever I have time. However, between my full-time job, GISH, and my best friend surprising me with an impromptu trip come Friday, I'll admit I've been pulled in too many directions lately to give this fic my full attention like it deserves. I have planned out the rest of the fic, so once I have free time again (next Wednesday), I'll be able to work on the next chapter. That said, this is a rather long chapter again to tide you over until then.
> 
> Also, I know my Benny isn't a true Benny. He's super hard for me to write for some reason. Anyway, let's see. The therapy session that happens here does go off the rails, and Gabriel has a bit of a breakdown over it, but Sam's there to help. Also, this ends with a cliffhanger, maybe. Nothing we need to worry about. Dean, though... Enjoy. :)

Scratching at the slight stubble on his jaw, Dean sighed heavily. He didn't like how close this damned work meeting was to the first joint family therapy session. He also didn't like the fact that his husband looked like someone on a verge of a mental breakdown over it either, but that was another story entirely. They needed this session. Even if Gabriel the jackass didn't think he needed it.

Which he did. Dude would have had to be freakin' blind not to see it. With his head shoved so far up his ass not to see how badly he needed this. Dean knew from experience all about this, though, as he had been the same way long ago.

Hell, Gabriel's little hissy fit at breakfast earlier practically made Dean's case too on how much Gabriel needed this. They were only on freaking Day 4 of quarantine. Though, honestly it felt so much longer. But there was the sandy-haired dick going on about something with Sam right there coming to Gabe's defense like some white knight. All Dean had said was that maybe if his brother-in-law didn't run his mouth so much, Gabe could maybe keep a fiancé around longer than a few weeks. It'd been a low blow, Dean admitted, but it got the point across effectively. And, seriously, was Dean wrong?

" _Uh-oh, I know that look,"_ smirked Benny Lafitte, Dean's partner, popping up on Dean's laptop screen. _"And it's never a good one on ya. What'd ya do, brother?"_

Dean shook his head, though, waving away the question. "Doesn't matter. What'd you find out? And don't give me that crap that you found nothing cause we both know that's bullshit."

His partner snorted, shrugging flippantly. _"Truth?"_

"Please. It'd be nice to hear it from you for once," Dean retorted.

" _Jeez. Winchester,"_ whistled back Benny. _"Ya know I'm doin' this as a courtesy to you, right? That if You-Know-Who heard us, well, I'd be back in the swamps before ya could—"_

"Benny!"

" _All right. All right. Lord."_ His partner frowned and shook his head before he pulled something up onto his screen. _"Hate this damned thing already,"_ he muttered. _"There ya go. Check your email."_

"Better not be one of your damned cooking vids again," Dean warned, already opening the email and decrypting it. Though, if it was Benny's gumbo, he was definitely saving that shit and trying it out sometime. His eyes instantly narrowed when he saw the numerous PDFs and JPGs attached to the email once it fully opened. He clicked and opened the first PDF he saw dated from last year, finding it as an invoice for a cabin rental in the Smokey Mountains. _Huh._ "So, what am I looking at here exactly?"

" _A receipt for your brother-in-law and the infamous Sam Wesson."_

Dean blinked, not getting the connection. He quickly glanced over the document finding nothing too much out of the ordinary really. It was just a normal invoice that went for two weeks.

"Okay." He glanced at Benny on the screen. "I don't get it."

His partner chuckled darkly, his clear blue eyes sparkling in humor. _"Look at the signature."_

Frowning, Dean glanced at the signatures. Gabriel's was a little more elegant than he would have ever thought the man was capable of doing. The other one was—he paused.

"Okay?" The S and W were clearly able to be read. The rest were just swirls and swoops, though. "Dude has sloppier handwriting than Sammy. What's your point?"

" _Oh, brother,"_ Benny chuckled. _"Open the one dated May 2, 2019 then."_

Dean frowned but did. He skimmed over the charges, finding it to be fairly normal for a romantic tryst in the city. He glanced back at Benny, still not understanding why his partner was staring at him with 'Are you freakin' serious' look on his face. "Oh, just come out with it already. What am I looking at here? Other than my brother-in-law playing Gere in _Pretty Woman_ with his fiancé."

Benny chuckled, shaking his head. _"All right. Question for ya."_ His lips turned upwards slightly. _"Know where your brother was few weeks back?"_

"New York. Why?" Dean then scoffed. "And what the hell does Sammy have to do with this?"

" _Sure about that, chief?"_ Benny asked with a raised brow, ignoring Dean's last remark.

Green eyes blinked before his head tilted slightly. "Benny . . . " Just what the hell was he saying?

" _You're absolutely positive he wasn't in, say, sunny LA?"_

"LA? Why the hell would Sammy be out in L—" Dean stared back numbly when the gears finally clicked. _Oh._ He turned his attention back to the invoices, opening several more frantically. Was Benny insinuating— _no_. He then found an invoice dated just a few weeks back for some fancy hotel in downtown LA. He glanced at the Sam Wesson signature again, his stomach sinking. "These photos . . ."

" _Are from various security feeds taken from over the years,"_ his partner supplied quietly.

Dean hesitantly clicked on a photo from last year, his heart dropping the second it revealed Sam standing beside a grinning Gabriel. They were checking in, and judging by the timestamp, for some romantic weekend to celebrate his brother's birthday. Sam had claimed he had to work that weekend.

"Have you—uh—does anyone other—" Dean's stomach rolled nervously "—Benny?"

" _Sorry, brother,"_ his partner quietly murmured. _"But it wasn't me who saw it first."_

"Then who did?"

Benny made a face, glancing away guiltily before he gave a slight shrug and mumbled, _"Billie."_

"Fuck!"

" _Makes you feel any better, though,"_ his partner drawled, _"she's been laughing 'bout it."_

"What?" Dean scoffed. "No, dumbass. That doesn't make me feel any better." Why the hell would Benny think that their fucking boss knowing before he did would make him feel better?

" _Man, hate to, you know, kick when you're down, but, uh, you're probably the last to know."_

"Excuse me?" What the fuck did that mean? He then caught the ding from his email. He glanced at the other window and saw the new email. "Benny?" It was a link to some YouTube video.

" _I'll say this."_ His partner forced an appreciate grin to his face, showing off his pearly whites _. "Dude's a damn ol' softie at heart. Not to mention, he's treatin' your brother like a goddamn prince."_

Frowning, Dean clicked on the YouTube link. His eyes widened the second he saw his brother's face. If those weren't the biggest heart eyes he had ever seen on Sam before, then he was— He scoffed, shaking his head. Fucking hell! Damn, was he stupid sometimes! Wow! Sam had practically admitted to this just yesterday morning. Hell, Sam _had_ admitted it. Dean just didn't freaking listen. Like always.

He watched Gabriel hold out a blue Ring Pop to Sam as they sat beside each other at some fancy table. Both nonverbally screamed their love. There was no denying it. No argument to be made. It was already fact and truth. Their hearts already tied to one another with unbreakable bonds formed for life.

Leaning back in his chair with a groan a moment later, Dean brought his hands up to run over his face. What the fuck was he supposed to do with this information now?

"So, to recap here," he remarked, waving a hand, "Gabriel is engaged to Sam, and the fucking asshole lied to my goddamn face about all of it, giving me some garbage about Sam Wesson." He caught Benny's hesitant nod. "And they're sneaking around my back here instead of having the balls to come out and just admit they're together. That sum it up pretty well?"

" _Pretty much, yeah."_

"Peachy."

Dean needed a fucking drink. Or a bottle. Or a goddamn liquor store. He wouldn't be picky.

" _There's, uh, well, 'nother thing."_

"Course there is," he grumbled, glaring at his partner before he urged Benny to continue.

" _Now, you know how we value privacy here at the FBI and—"_

"Benny," Dean warned, his glare deepening. He wasn't in the mood. At all.

" _You're havin' yourself a Vegas weddin' there, Winchester."_

"What?" he breathed out, blinking rapidly as the words echoed in his head. A _what_?

Benny nodded. _"And judgin' by your brother's emails, it'll be a small thing next week."_

"Next week?" Dean cried with a gasp, leaning to the screen with wide eyes. "Dude! _What_?!" He then whirled to the closed door, inhaling sharply before he turned back. "You're sure?"

" _I am."_

His brother was getting married next week? To Gabriel? And Dean was finding all of this out from Benny who had found out from Billie of all people? What in the actual fuck?!

" _Not to point out the obvious, but, ya know, that right there might be why they haven't told you about it,_ " Benny pointed out. _"Cause, well, you sure as shit aren't takin' this well."_

Dean waved the words away, though. "Where are they getting married? What church?" Was it even legal to gather when the entire world was supposed to shut down? He was pretty sure it wasn't. Not with the frequent daily briefings with Dr. Fauci and others he had seen at least.

Benny seemed to key something into his computer, clicking through screens as he researched it _. "Seems like they're going to have it done by a justice of peace. They don't want the fuss of a big weddin'. Can't say I necessarily blame them with all this shit goin' down."_

"So, then, _what_? They're going to the courthouse?"

Benny shrugged. _"Seems like it."_

Dean scoffed, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, that ain't happening."

" _Now, just a minute—"_

"No. I'll be damned if he marries in a damn courthouse. He spends enough time there already."

" _So, what are ya gonna do?"_ Benny leaned back with a look. _"Hijack your brother's weddin'?"_

Dean shrugged back nonchalantly. "If I have to, yeah." Because he would rather be dead than to have his kid brother marry in such an impersonal, not to mention rather unmemorable, way.

" _Oh, sugar. This is so gonna bite ya in the ass,"_ Benny remarked with an exaggerated sigh.

"So be it."

Because Dean was not going to let his brother marry in a goddamn courthouse. Sammy deserved better. Hell, fucking Gabriel deserved better than that—and Dean barely tolerated his brother-in-law some days. They'd see his heart was in the right place. And if asked, he was sure Cas would join in and help make sure the two had a happy wedding day. Marriage was after all more than just a piece of paper. And both Gabriel and Sam deserved to have a happy wedding like Dean and Cas's was.

" _Huh,"_ Benny muttered suddenly.

Green eyes darted back to his screen. "What?" When he caught the look on his partner's face, he felt a momentarily flicker of panic rise. "Benny?" The second their eyes met, he felt a swift punch to his gut. That was never a good sign. "What is it?"

" _Uh, well, some new footage just came in."_ His partner clearly didn't want to divulge it.

"Of Gabriel and Sam?"

Benny shook his head instantly, though. _"No. Of Sam only this time."_ He then sighed heavily, glancing down and pressing his lips firmly together for a second. _"Did you know your brother was at a Radio Shed yesterday?_ "

"No." He shrugged before corrected himself. "I mean, I knew he left the house, but Gabriel said Sam went for a run. Why?" He then heard the chime from his email, clicking over to it immediately and seeing a movie file attached to an email Benny had sent. He glanced back at his partner and sighed when the man nodded at him to open it. It took a few moments before the video loaded, but the second it did, Dean felt his heart stop. He didn't need to glance down at the picture to know that it was Lucifer Morningstar who was talking to Sam. When Sam left the store and Lucifer turned away and headed back into what likely was the employee only area of the store, Dean felt completely confused. When Lucifer didn't emerge after a few more moments, he finally paused the video. "Where'd he go?"

" _Out the back entrance of the store. But, Dean, that ain't—that ain't all, brother."_

"What do you mean?"

" _Authorities on the scene said that the employee, Brandon Mills, 19 of Midland, was found in back shook up pretty bad. Claimed a smooth-talking guy, Lucifer Morningstar ya saw there, came in and offered him $1000 if Brandon let the man take his place at the register for one customer."_

"Shit. Is the kid okay?"

" _Yeah. He's got a nasty laceration to his neck, but hospital released him. But that ain't all."_

Damn, he hated those words. He forced himself to remain calm before he said, "What is it?"

" _He claims Lucifer saved him. That some woman had snuck in from the back somehow, took him hostage, and was the one who cut him, not Lucifer. Young Brandon's fairly adamant about that."_

Dean's brows knitted together. That didn't make a bit of sense, though.

"Do we have any footage from the back to corroborate this?"

" _None. Feed conveniently cut out during that time. And no woman was found either."_

"So, then the kid could be lying." But why would he be was the question.

" _Or maybe—and hate to say it—we don't have all this figured out like we think we do, brother."_

No. Dean didn't want to think about that. Not yet. He didn't want to open up that can of worms with Cas yet. "Dig deeper," he instructed. "And let me know what you find." He then ended the Zoom.

* * *

Glancing at the clock, Cas frowned. Dean still was in his work meeting. If it didn't end soon, he'd be late to their first family therapy session. A meeting Dean wanted and had called for, not Cas—regardless that Cas believed it might possibly help with some of the underlying issues they all had. He turned his head slightly to the recliner to his right finding his brother messing around on his phone with Sam sitting on the arm of the recliner also frantically texting with someone.

"How cute," quipped Claire as she finally emerged from her room. She smiled warmly when their eyes darted to her. "You two lovebirds are texting one another."

"Hilarious," Sam replied back with an obvious eye roll as he pocketed his phone again. "I was checking in with Eileen."

"Your girlfriend?"

"My _paralegal_ ," he corrected.

"Whatever," she drawled, flopping down beside Cas on the sofa. She then rested her head against his shoulder, sighing quietly. "Do we really have to do this, Dad?" she groaned.

"Yes," Cas replied, turning his head to kiss the side of her head lovingly. He understood why she didn't quite believe in this yet. She had been let down too many times in the past by adults. "Your father believes it's important—"

"—just not important enough to be here on time obviously," Gabriel chimed in oh so helpfully.

Sam snorted, lightly hitting Gabriel's thigh before he gave him a chaste kiss to the cheek and whispered, "Play nice."

Cas bit back his sigh, letting the conversation drop. When was Dean going to join them exactly? It was now a minute before their scheduled appointment. He briefly considered walking into the office and dragging his husband out by the ear. After all, his clearance level was still higher than Dean's likely since Naomi refused to remove it fully for some reason. Not to mention, this entire thing was all his husband's freaking fault as well.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Claire huffed, snapping her fingers at the engaged couple and instantly drawing everyone's attention back to her. "Keep the PDA down over there. Will you?"

"Why?" Sam teased, turning to her with a wide grin. "Jealous?"

"Of you two?" She snorted, crossing her arms with an unimpressed look. "Dream on."

On the other side of Cas, Jack kicked his leg out sharply as if someone had hit him in the knee. He met Cas's eyes briefly before he glanced back down sharply to the floor, avoiding again.

Yes, this session was definitely needed.

When he heard the blip on the laptop in front of them, Cas glanced towards it, forcing a smile when he saw Doctor Tenent appear on the screen. The full-bearded, salt-and-peppered psychologist was wearing his usual suit and tie—a light blue button down and deep burgundy tie done in the regal Oxford knot today. For once the good doctor wasn't wearing his jacket, though, but he still had that familiar authoritarian but well-mannered look about him. He always reminded Cas of one of those actors destined to be the next James Bond or, hell, some other iconic main character.

He immediately caught Tenent's narrowed dark eyes and did his very best not to react to it. The psychologist always latched on like a rabid dog whenever he did. On one hand, he had a deep dislike for Tenent honestly. However, he had to hand it to the psychologist. The man surely knew how to get all of the emotionally-constipated members of the Winchester-Novak family to talk openly and publicly bare themselves—when they otherwise usually would fight it tooth and nails with a muttered collective 'I'm fine.' It was one of the reasons why he and Dean still saw Tenent.

" _Castiel,"_ calmly stated Tenent in his usual deep, soothing timbre. The corner of his lip twitched slightly as his eyes roamed the rest of the room briefly.

"Doctor," he replied back politely, tipping his head forward and glancing down at his wedding ring. Where the hell was Dean? He'd get his damned idiot back for this if it were the last thing he did.

"Sorry! Sorry! I'm here!" his husband finally shouted, rushing out of the office towards the sofa. He skidded to a halt beside Cas. Green eyes sent an apologetic look but were met with impassivity.

" _Ah. Dean,"_ chuckled the psychologist. _"I was wondering if you were going to join us."_

"Yeah, I bet. Sorry. Work just—" He then waved it away as he took a seat next to Cas. "Sorry. I'm here now, though." He made a point of silencing his phone and setting it down beside the laptop.

Tenent only turned away, though. _"Hello, Claire."_

"Hey," she replied with a forced, uncomfortable smile.

He said nothing about it, turning his attention elsewhere. _"Jack, it's good to see you again."_

"Hello," the young man responded, swallowing slowly.

Cas watched his son glance back down towards the floor a second later, noticing Jack's foot tapping slightly. Though, Jack was hardly the only one. Both Gabriel and Dean were tapping their feet incessantly with nervous energy as well.

" _And . . . is that, is that you, Sam?"_ Tenent asked hesitantly, leaning to get a better glimpse.

"It is," the young lawyer answered back with a soft chuckle as he leaned in closer.

" _It's been quite some time since I last saw you."_ Dark eyes then darted to the last occupant left to be addressed. _"Which makes you Gabriel Novak, doesn't it?"_

"Wow," remarked Cas's brother sarcastically. "Cassie never said you—"

" _I'm impressed,"_ Tenent interrupted sharply, cutting Gabriel off as the psychologist leaned back with a faintly amused look. He then glanced down languidly at his expensive silver watch with a slight shrug before he looked back at the screen. _"Here I thought you'd surely wait until after the pleasantries were said before you'd start with your obvious deflections. Instead, it was five seconds."_

Cas's eyes closed instantly, and he groaned inwardly. This was not going to go well. Perhaps he should have warned his brother in hindsight and given Gabriel a little bit of leg up on Tenent's . . . irregularities. He had thought Sam would have told him surely, though.

"Well, that's me, Doc," drawled back his big dumb brother, Gabriel's tone hardening slightly. "I aim to impress." He then clapped his hands together and shrugged. "What about you, though? I mean, sweet threads and all. You're, _what_ , an Ivy league grad?"

" _Columbia actually, yes,"_ Tenent answered casually with a nod. _"Do you have something against those who seek higher education?"_

Gabriel huffed an unamused laugh, pausing when Sam and Cas both gave him warning looks.

Tenent jumped on his pause, though. _"Because I'm under the impression that you actually—"_

"Uh, Doc, not to interrupt your poking my brother-in-law with your big stick and all," Dean cut in surprisingly, "as amusing as this is, but, uh, can we get back on track here maybe?"

Cas glanced at his husband. Where did that come from? Normally, he'd have thought Dean would be all for Tenent's flaying Gabriel alive. He was impressed, lightly slipping his hand into his husband's and giving him a quick thankful squeeze.

Tenent nodded slowly, though, clearly also astounded by Dean's interruption. _"Of course."_ His dark eyes darted back to Gabriel, though. _"For the record, however, you might want to listen more, Gabriel, before you dismiss therapy all together and discard it as nonsense."_

Cas heard Claire's bewildered laugh and ignored it, glancing at his brother and giving him his fiercest 'Don't' look. If he had to, he'd sell his soul to keep his brother from being his usual idiot self. Gabriel going off was exactly what Tenent was wanting. His usual 'Tear them apart to build them back' approach that all but Gabriel knew the good doctor utilized during sessions.

"Yeah, I don't know much, but pretty sure, _Doc_ ," Gabriel spat, hissing Tenent's title, "you're not supposed to be such a condescending little prick!"

"Dude!" Dean growled, glaring.

" _My, did I strike a nerve already?"_ drawled Tenent, leaning forward with a smirk. _"That didn't take long. And here I thought you'd be a challenge, but I see now you're just—"_

"—I wonder what your bosses would think if they heard the way you talk to your—"

" _My superiors are well aware of my methods,"_ Tenent replied coolly, not at all bothered by the threat. _"They're more focused on results than methods admittedly."_

"Yeah, I bet," Gabriel scoffed, glaring at the screen.

Cas caught Sam's fingers digging hard into Gabriel's arm, likely leaving bruises with how hard he was gripping, but Cas could tell that his brother was brushing it off—choosing his anger instead.

"Tell me. I'm curious. Why pornography?" Tenent asked suddenly, his voice softening just a bit.

It was like a train derailing a mile away barreling towards them. Both Jack and Claire gasped near Cas, clearly baffled once again by the doctor's absolute bluntness. Cas didn't blame them, though At all. Even he was surprised by the insensitivity Tenent was displaying right then.

" _Is it because you find sex appealing, the forbidden fruit you just have to keep tasting over and over?"_ Tenent remarked musingly.

Sam's fingers were deep into Gabriel's arm, but Gabriel still hadn't snapped out of his anger yet. There was no doubt in Cas's mind that Sam's grip had to be hurting Gabriel on some level.

" _Or is because of something else?"_

His brother forced a dark, bitter chuckle that sent a chill down Cas's spine.

Tenent stared neutrally, their eyes locked on one another. _"Something from your past perhaps?"_

"You couldn't be more wrong if you tried," his big brother stated coldly, his eyes full of rage. "No, Doc. Only abuse I went through were purely physical and emotional. So sorry to burst your bubble, but nah I like sex—" another cold, hollow laugh fell from his lips "because it's the one damn time when I can feel something other than disgust or whatever at myself. But sure, go on then. You're not the first shrink to ask that." His eyes darted to Cas with a look of betrayal before he ripped his gaze back, his breathing coming in panting gasps. His emotions gripped him from inside, tearing away his control. "Now, I don't know how much Cassie's told you. And I don't really care. But you want to know what makes me like this? Like this fuck-up you see before you? Well, buckle up. It's a fucked-up story."

Cas moved to stand up, glancing at his husband when Dean grabbed his arm to hold him back. No. Not like this. This was not how this story was supposed to come out. He turned back to interrupt, to tell Gabriel it was okay, that he didn't need to say anything, that they were wrong to do this to him.

"Daddy dearest, he wanted one thing from his kids," his brother stated. "Just one. Constant obedience. Obey him no matter what. And when we didn't, when we got out of line, we were punished." Gabriel barked a dark, broken laugh. "He wouldn't lay a hand on us. No. Never. Instead, he'd have one of our siblings do it for him. To prove our loyalty to him. To prove our love for him and him alone."

Cas flinched, curling back as his stomach twisted and knotted at his brother's pain—their shared trauma, albeit more Gabriel's than his as his brother tried his very best to shield him from all of this the best he could back then. He felt Dean tense beside him, and a brief flicker of white-hot fury flared up in response. How dare his husband! How fucking dare he! What did he think Tenent would do exactly?

"Cassie, now—he was the youngest. He didn't understand. I made sure of that! Damn fucking sure of it!" Gabriel scoffed angrily. "So, what do you want to know? Huh? What story do you want to hear exactly? The one where our older brother Lucifer came into my room and stabbed me, leaving me pinned to my bed, choking on my own blood when I was twelve? Or how about the time when I was messing around in Dad's study, just wanting Dad to notice me for once, and accidentally spilled juice on his manuscript when I was trying to hop up into his lap? I was five, Doc. My punishment for that? My older brother Michael—desperate to be Dad's number one son—locked me outside the house. It was 30 some degrees that night." He shrugged listlessly. "I could go on. I got freaking fifteen years' worth of abuse stories for you. All kinds of variations of torture and degrading nightmarish scenarios and what have you. I could tell you about the time when Cassie wouldn't stop crying—he was two—and Dad, well, he blamed me for it naturally because I was the last one in there. In reality, Cassie was only upset because Mister Platypus had fallen out of the crib. I got three cracked ribs that night. _Fun times."_

Cas closed his eyes, hearing the gasps all around them.

"So, you want to make some wisecrack about me enjoying sex? About my directing porn films? Coolio. You're not the first asshole I've come across. Doubt you'll be my last. But, sure, let's talk about that, too." Gabriel glanced at Claire and Jack. "Cover your ears, kiddos." He lost some of his harshness.

Cas caught their horrified looks and shook his head slowly. _Damn it, Gabriel._ He leaned towards his brother, stopped again by Dean and turned back to glare at his husband more. Didn't Dean see that this was doing more harm than good?

"I enjoy a good fuck, a night of pure climatic blissful torture where there's mutual begging, pleading one another for release, to crawl inside and be one until our last dying breath. It's not because anyone touched me or did anything like that, but because it's the one damn time, the _one_ , where _I'm_ in control, where _I_ get to decide." He then drew in sharp breath, his jaw clenching as his eyes hardened.

Sam tried to coax Gabriel back down, but it didn't work, Cas noticed. His brother was too caught up in his pain and hurt to be reached. In fact, it was obvious he didn't even notice Sam's attempts.

"But, well, sometimes life surprises you, Doc," Gabriel declared, his eyes trained ahead. "And you find someone worth a damn, someone you're willing to let in, to trust, to give him your damn heart and pray to whoever the fuck is listening above that you didn't just make the biggest damn mistake of your life with this guy that's going to get you killed. And each day you fall more in love with him, but you know— _oh man_ —you know if he knows how fucked up you truly are, he'll leave. Just like all the others you let in before. So you keep him at an arm's length, but slipping more and more towards him unfortunately because you want it. Oh, fuck, do you want it!" Gabriel cried, fat tears streaming down his cheeks as the words poured out.

Cas saw the pain written all over Sam's face as he tried once more to reach Gabriel. To pull him back from the edge, as Cas had no doubt, his brother-in-law had done so many times before in private.

"You want it more than anything you've ever wanted in your fucking pathetic life before," Gabriel declared. "And he—he's a fucking saint. Because he sees you. He sees past the bullshit, past all the bravado, all your many tricks, the deceit, the masks you clutch onto like they're shields meant to protect. He sees through all of it, recognizing your pain and trying to understand it. Trying not to heal you" he shook his head frantically "because he knows pity and all that shit just pisses you off more. But he accepts you. He _loves_ you, Doc. And you believe it. Because you want it. God, do you want it!" His hand came up into a fist, knuckles pressed firm against his lips. As if he was trying to hold back more truths that were threatening to fall from his lips now. "Because he makes you . . . he makes you whole again." His fist fell to his chin. "He fills the cracks to your shattered soul with a smile. He heals the wounds so deep with love. His kisses. His hugs. But you know—deep down you know the truth." He stood up then, stepping out of Sam's reach, whiskey eyes full of pain and tortured heartbreak. "Given enough time, everything comes to an end." He turned away and headed out the front door then.

Cas watched Sam hop up, his brother-in-law waving all away before Sam rushed after Gabriel.

"Not exactly the way I wanted that to go," declared Tenent, "but it's a start." He nodded when he saw the shared outraged looks. "I know. It was insensitive and harsh, forcing that outburst to happen. However, please keep this mind. That was likely the first time Gabriel ever was completely honest with himself. It's a start. And from here, we can work on it. He admitted to control being a driving force for him. I took away his control. I admit that. I riled him up to the point where he had to lash out as he did. But he was honest for once. And he let out his pain."

"It shouldn't have happened like this," Cas argued, shaking his head.

"No. You're right. It shouldn't have," Tenent agreed. "However, your brother was never going to get to this point, to face this, if you let him continue to do what he's been doing all his life. We needed to rip off that Band-Aid. Just as we did with you, Castiel." He then glanced beside him. "Just as we did with you, Dean." He then glanced at the kids. "And with you, Claire and Jack."

"And Sam?" Dean hesitantly asked, his tongue slowly darting out to swipe across his lips.

"And Sam," Tenent concurred, nodding slowly. "It's a start. Now, as I'm sure I don't need to remind you, based on what I saw just now, when Gabriel returns, he's going to be drained. He's going to be a right ass probably even. I'd imagine he doesn't get a lot of people who don't back down from a fight with him. He was waiting to see if I blinked. I didn't. Now, comes the part where you don't."

"He's not violent," Cas disputed, feeling a surge of protectiveness inside for Gabriel.

"Not with others. No. I agree. But with himself, well, that's another story. Think on what he just admitted to us. He believes that—"

"Good things don't happen to him," Dean interrupted quietly, finishing for Tenent.

"Precisely. He was conditioned to this way of thinking. The abuse suffered at the hands of your father, your siblings, it's appalling and tragic. It's going to take time to break as he's had decades to convince himself of this lie. But even he admitted life surprises him sometimes. Now, once he returns and he's had a good night's rest, I'd recommend the colored candy exercise." He raised a brow when Cas went to argue. "I may have focused my energy with Gabriel this session, but he's hardly the only one in this family, Castiel. It'll give him a distraction, though, while still offering him a chance to talk. We'll meet again in a week. If you need anything, please don't hesitate." He then quickly ended the call.

Cas sighed heavily, leaning forward with his head in his hands. What had they done?

* * *

Sam rushed through the front door, barely even having time to grab keys let alone his wallet. When he found Gabe standing at the end of the driveway with hunched up shoulders, curled in on himself, Sam's long legs propelled him faster towards his fiancé. Then he heard the panicky gasps and watched helplessly as the man fell to his knees, clutching his chest before his hands suddenly went to his head and gripped his hair in an attempt to pull himself out of his darkening thoughts.

Having seen this several times before, the lawyer jumped into action.

"Gabriel!" He knelt in front of the panicking man, moving in front of the wide, terrified amber eyes. "Hey! Hey, it's okay." He craned his head slightly to get back into the man's eyesight, knowing full well Gabriel was too far into his spiral to recognize him unfortunately. "It's okay!" he declared, grabbing his hands. "I'm here. I'm right here. Do you feel that? That's me. Okay? It's Sam. I'm squeezing your hands. Just focus on that. Focus on _me_. Just for a second. Please?" He felt Gabe pull back a smidge before stopping. Gabe was clearly confused and thrown by the likely garbled words that broke through the negative feedback loop playing in his mind. "I need you to breathe with me. Okay? Just breathe with me." Sam drew in a slow, deep breath, saying, "Breathe in." He paused, catching Gabe's stilted breath as more of Sam's words filtered through the hazed panic. "Hold it. That's it."

Gabe's whole body was ramrod, stiff and solid as if someone had dumped some invisible plaster and forced Gabe into that painful pose. However, he held his breath, or tried his very best to, before he let out a coughing fit, falling forward.

"That's it. Just like that." Sam lightly brushed back the waves. "Just like that, Gabe. In." He exaggerated his inhale. "Hold." He puffed out his cheeks. "And out." All the air rushed out as he puckered his lips, opening them. "In." He leaned forward, watching Gabe slowly uncurl himself just a bit as he came back. "Hold. That's it. Just like that. You've got this. Just a bit longer." His fingers swept Gabe's waves to the side lovingly, stroking him and giving him something else to focus on. "And out." He pressed a light kiss to his fiancé's temple, feeling and hearing the choked back cry.

Sam glanced at the house, thankful that none of them were looking out the window. Not that he expected them to be necessarily. And he didn't know what he'd do if they were, considering they were all to blame for this—even Sam himself.

"All right. Up you go, Candy Man," he said lightheartedly, hating how easy it was to pull Gabe to his feet. "We're going to go for a drive. Just you and me." He wrapped a firm arm around Gabe's waist, holding him hard against, as they slowly walked to the passenger door. It took finagling and finesse, but he managed somehow to get Gabe to fold into the seat and buckled in. He grabbed Gabe's hand again, brushing his thumb against Gabe's. He hated the faraway look held in those beautiful whiskey eyes of Gabe's. "Hey, do you—do you remember Vegas a few years back?" He needed to get Gabe to come back just a bit more. "When I found you in the rooftop pool with all those beautiful women around?" He leaned forward, smoothing out the lines that were creased into Gabe's forehead. "Do you remember that? I came to the hotel too early, wanting to surprise you. They were all over you."

"I was filming," Gabe mumbled, his eyes fluttering closed as his head fell against the headrest.

"That's right. You were." He gently cupped Gabe's cheek and sighed inwardly. The adrenaline crash was starting. "Just rest, though. We'll talk more later." He wiped away a few trails of tears that had silently fallen, feeling his gut clench in response to it.

This wasn't—damn it! He should have done something earlier. He should have pulled Gabe out of the room the second he saw the hostility between Tenent and Gabe. For all his promises of waiting, he sure as hell hadn't done that, had he? Instead, he stood by, sitting there like a log, as Tenent sliced away every wall Gabe had ever created to protect himself. And for what? To know what Sam already knew deep down? That the man he loved was tortured by his past, desperate to escape for happiness?

Sam would fix this. He wasn't sure how yet, but he'd fix this. Somehow.

A second later, he gently shut the passenger car door before he ran around the front of the vehicle, slipping inside and against the leather bench. Without a second thought given, he turned the key in the ignition, the engine roaring with life in its usual powerful, commanding manner. He then threw the vehicle into reverse, knowing damn well his brother would hear it inside as he did. He'd deal with all that nonsense later, though. Right now, he was right where he was supposed to be.

* * *

A few hours later, Gabriel groaned weakly, his head rolling against the solid warm body he was curled around. He blinked, making another noise of displeasure at how bright it was as he squeezed his eyes even tighter together. Thick smell of stagnant water and trash slowly wafted around, settling.

"Where am I?"

When his eyes finally adjusted to the obscene amount of light, he found himself staring out onto an unfamiliar large body of water. It was beautiful, he'd admit, but he couldn't remember getting here—and that unsettled him greatly. He hated these moments, rare that they were.

"Hey. There you are." A gentle but subdued laugh slipped free. "Good nap?"

"Sam?" He pulled back slightly, thankful when his fiancé released him wordlessly. "Where are we?" He used the back of his free hand, the one not currently locked with Sam's, to scrub at his eyes. The last he could recall he was in that stupid meeting with that idiot shrink.

"Clinton State Park."

Amber eyes narrowed in confusion. Why were they in a state park? And where the hell was that?

"Why?" he asked slowly, blinking.

Sam gave a wry chuckle and shrugged lightly. "I thought the lake would be calming to you." His eyes dropped to the ground before he continued, "Maybe. It sounded good in my head."

Gabriel yawned, though, using the back of his hand to cover it. Made sense. And this place was somewhat relaxing to be out here, listening to tiny waves lap at the rocky beach. There were a few people around, but they were quite a bit away thankfully. He melted back against Sam with a quiet sigh.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

He wanted to say more. A thank you for Sam getting him out of people's prying eyes, but he felt unimaginably groggy and disoriented. A thought wiggled around in his head at this realization, but he tried to push it aside. After all, he didn't want to consider that right now. Or ever. Whatever happened was in the past. Whatever he had screwed up this time, at least he had Sam at his side, so it led him to believe that whatever had happened hadn't been too bad at least.

"Gabe?"

His eyes closed in response. Then again, it seemed Sam wanted to talk about it. When were people going to get it through their thick heads, though, that all the talking in the world wasn't going to fix him? He was too broken, too damaged. He was too— _this_ —whatever it was.

"I'm sorry," Sam murmured unexpectedly. "I know that doesn't help or do anything now after the fact, but I want you to know I'm sorry."

For the life of him, he couldn't think of a single reason for Sam to apologize here exactly. For kidnapping him to some lake? That wasn't anything to apologize over. It was a kind and sweet gesture. One he'd have expected from his fiancé because that was the kind of wonderful man Sam was.

Gabriel frowned as he still couldn't figure out a possibly explanation for Sam's apology. "For what?" he finally asked, feeling rather curious.

"For not sticking up for you earlier," Sam admitted guiltily. "For pushing you towards therapy in the first place. For—hell, you name it. I'm sorry for all of it."

He scoffed, though, shaking his head lightly. "Sam." With his forehead, he gently butted the side of his fiancé's chin. "None of that is your—" He sighed heavily, deciding to rip off his emotional scab some more. "My beautiful, sweet moose, listen to me." He forced their gaze. "You have nothing to apologize for here. Nothing. You've been," he let his voice trail off for a moment as he thought more on how to say this. "Sam, you've been so good to me."

"You're joking, right?"

Frowning lightly, Gabriel lightly hit his delusional moose upside the head.

"Hey!"

"Listen here, Shaggy," he drawled, raising a challenging brow at Sam when his fiancé clearly moved to argue. "Did I totally have a mini mental breakdown a bit ago? Yeah. I did. Am I a little upset over it? Yep again. But am I blaming you for any of it? Fuck no." His hands quickly sandwiched Sam's face as their eyes met. "Because you aren't to blame here. You aren't anywhere even close to that."

"I pushed—"

"No!" He shook his head irritated. He hated these moments. When the other person took the blame onto themselves instead of seeing it as it was. "I may have been focused on Doctor Dickwad, but you didn't push me to do squat."

"Gabriel—"

"—Samuel," he interrupted sassily before he squeezed his hands more against Sam's cheeks. "You aren't to blame for this. I promise."

"Then who is? _You_?"

He shrugged. "Partly yeah. But then there's also Doctor Dickwad, Dad, my brothers, and a whole bunch of others—all but Cassie of course. But, I mean, I don't know." It was now his turn to dart his eyes away remorsefully. "You've been trying to get me to talk for years about that shit, and I've been blowing you off every chance I could get. But it's obvious now, even to me. I'm clearly not handling anything. I'm just sweeping it under the rug, hoping for the best. And that's not fair to you."

"Fair to me?" Sam repeated slowly. "Who cares about me?"

Gabriel gave a quiet snort, rolling his eyes. "I care about you or did that hit to the head earlier cause you to forget that?" He pressed a finger against Sam's lips when he caught his fiancé's telltale signs of rearing for an argument. "Sam-alam, listen to me. While I appreciate all the no doubt wonderful things that would have come out of that gorgeous mouth of yours, the sweet thoughts and whatnot, let's be honest with ourselves, okay? I'm a mess." He then motioned around them. "I can't even remember how I got here. So, judging by previous history, that tells me you had to practically carry me out here, half-scared out of your mind, because I was so out of it, stuck in my own head. So, yeah, that's not fair to you. That's not even remotely close to it."

Sam mumbled around his fingers, clearly arguing.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Gabriel muttered with a shake of his head. "However, and I need you to hear me, bucko, this isn't going to be an easy fix. A few sessions with Doctor Dickwad isn't going to undo all of the psychological bullshit in my head. It's going to take years, decades—hell, I might still be doing this whole crap until I die, Sam. All right? That's not something a person wants to tie themselves to for all of eternity. So, what I'm saying here is, you deserve a chance to get out, to save yourself before it gets super bad." He grunted when Sam finally was able to break free. Well, fine then.

"You're an idiot," huffed Sam, shaking his head. "Do you think I tell just anyone I love them? Do you honestly think I accept just anyone's marriage proposal? For that matter, do you think I'm that blind, that naive, that whatever, to think that everything with us is going to be sunshine and rainbows all the time?" The words shot out rapidly, pinning Gabriel in place with the raw emotion behind it. "Because it's not. I know this is going to take work." He then threw his hands up and turned away for a brief moment before he glanced back frustratedly. "Damn it, Gabe! I mean, honestly." He stared at him with a frown. "I know what I'm signing up for here. I do! You've been honest from the start about this whole damn thing. You've told me about your struggles. So, why do you keep trying to push me away when I'm showing you I'm here, Gabe? That I'm willing to fight this battle with you, no matter how long it takes? That I know we have work to do?"

"Because I don't want to drag you down with me, Sam," he argued back.

"Why do you think you will?"

He scoffed, shaking his head before he flipped his hand dismissively at Sam. Same argument, different day of the week.

"No. Gabe, I'm serious. Why do you think you'll drag me down?"

"Because I've done it to everyone else I've ever cared for. And you? Oh, Samsquatch, you—you will kill me when you finally wise up and save yourself. So, it's best to just rip it off now before either of us get in too deep.

"You have that little faith in us? In _me_?"

"I don't—I don't get—" Gabriel growled in frustration before he clenched his jaw and glanced away for a moment to try to calm himself again. He was tired of having this fight. "It's not in my cards. Not after . . . not after what I did."

"What did you do, though? Exist?" Sam tossed back.

The response instantly caused Gabriel's mind to slip on its well-worn track concerning this particular argument. He blinked and stared back. His mind for once was utterly silent. He didn't have a response for that.

"Is that why you think you don't deserve happiness? Love? That you are destined to be alone for all eternity? Because—fuck, Gabe—that's complete and utter bullshit."

"Sam," he pleaded, closing his eyes with a pained look.

"No. I mean it. 100 percent. And I know you don't believe a damn thing I just said, but I'm going to keep saying it over and over until you do. Because, Gabe, you didn't do a damn thing to deserve anything your father did to any of you. You were a child!"

"You don't—"

"No. You're right. I don't know everything. But I know your heart. Your soul."

"Sam," he pleaded again, his voice cracking slightly as he felt the sting in his eyes.

"I know that whatever you're blaming yourself for here, you need to forgive yourself over it. You need to realize that whatever happened back then, it wasn't your fault. You were a fifteen-year-old being raised in an abusive home. So, please. Let it out."

No. Sam didn't understand. He couldn't. Cas didn't even know. No one but Chuck and Gabriel knew. And he intended to take that particular secret to the grave.

"I'm begging you. You have to let this out. You can't hold it in any longer. I'm not asking you to tell me if you're afraid of that. You sure as hell don't need to ever see, let alone tell, Tenent. But you have to get it out—even if it's just on a piece of paper and you burn it immediately afterwards. Because whatever this is that you've been punishing yourself over for however many decades, it is eating you alive." Sam's eyes held his gaze for a few seconds before he said quietly, "Because I've seen this before, Gabe. With Dean. And I nearly lost my brother to this spiraling. He let the guilt of something that was beyond his control eat away at him, convincing himself that he didn't deserve anything good in life either. Hell, did you know he nearly walked away from Cas once because of it? Convinced he would only mess it up eventually, so what was the point in putting either of them through that pain?" Sam raised a brow. "Sound familiar at all?"

"I'm not Dean."

"No. You're not. You're much more stubborn and set in your ways," his fiancé stated. "But do you know why I went to therapy?" When Gabriel shook his head, Sam gave him a gentle, sad half-smile. "Because I thought something was truly wrong with me. That I was broken or wrong—a freak in other words." He shrugged flippantly. "Turns out everything I thought that made me strange and freaky—my idiot fiancé loves about me. It took me years to get to be this open with someone. With _you_. And I can't even tell you how many years of therapy I've had just to finally wake up one day and realize how I was messing up my own life. How I could have been happy this entire time instead of focused so much on if others knew about me." He then forced a laugh, shaking his head. "For our entire first year together, I was convinced you'd leave. Did you know that? That one day you'd have your epiphany moment and wise up. You proved day after day, though, told me how many times you loved me, that you accepted me, that I was being ridiculous. So, let me return the favor, all right? Let me be the one to convince you that whatever happened wasn't your fault."

"My sister's dead, Sam."

"Did you kill her?" he asked without a second of hesitation.

"I might as well have." He brushed back his hair and leaned forward with his elbows digging into his thighs. "She died the day after I took Cas. The day after, Sam."

"But did you physically kill her?"

"I caused her death."

"Did you? Or did your dad take his torture a bit too far that day?"

"That doesn't matter!"

"It does, though. Your dad created an environment that left a trail of damage in its wake. Is it so much of a stretch that after you left, he snapped during one of his stupid 'lessons?'

"Sam—"

"No. I'm serious. Think about it. Did you honestly think your sister would die after you left?"

"He made me choose, Sam!" Gabriel shouted, ignoring the looks from across the way from onlookers nearby. "He made me choose," he repeated shakily.

"What?" That seemed to have thrown his fiancé.

"He pulled me into his office the night before my birthday, before I took Cas, and he told me I'd face either Cas or Anna—and that it was my choice of which of the two learned their lesson. So, I spent all night trying to figure out how to get out of what he wanted, his sibling rivalry bullshit he pulled on all of us to get the story just right. I knew how much Dad hated Cas, though, so I chose my brother, figuring Anna would be safe. I chose wrong. And she died. So, yeah, Sam, I am to blame for it."

"No. You're not." Sam turned fully towards him, grabbing him firmly. "Your dad is to blame, not you. He should have been a dad, Gabe, not some psychopath." He clenched his jaw in utter frustration. "You didn't kill her. I promise."

"I didn't choose her either, Sam."

"You should never have had to make that messed-up decision in the first place!"

"But I did. And I chose wrong. And she suffered for it."

"Gabriel—"

"—Sam!"

"You can't blame yourself for the actions of others. You can't. Just like I can't blame myself for Dean thinking he always had to be strong for me and hide his pain away. I'm not to blame for him, and you're not to blame for your sister. You didn't kill her, and I didn't cause my brother to drink himself into a stupor to escape his pain night after night. All right?"

"Then who do I blame?!"

"Your dad, God, Satan. Them. You blame _them_! And you forgive yourself. You didn't cause this. You didn't. You were fifteen, Gabe. Fifteen!"

"And she was _fourteen_ , Sam!" He shook his head. "I should have stayed. I should've—"

"If you had stayed, we never would have met, though."

"You don't know that."

"Nor do you," Sam pointed out bluntly. "But you wouldn't have been out in California if you hadn't left. You wouldn't have raised Cas. He never would have joined the Marshals, so he'd never have crossed my brother's path. They never would have married. None of this would have happened."

"So that makes it better then? My sister dies, but it's okay because—"

"No. Of course not," Sam interrupted abruptly, his tone sharp. "But you need to talk, Gabe. It doesn't have to be me. It sure as hell doesn't need to be Tenent. It could be a fucking porn star or prostitute or whomever for all I care. You just need to talk to someone. To anyone. You need to get this out before it kills you." He squeezed Gabe's hands. "I'm terrified, Gabriel. I'm truly scared of the day when I wake up and learn that something happened to you. All right? So, please, please talk to someone. Write it down if you have to. Just get the words out."

"I—Sam—" he faltered, staring at him brokenheartedly.

He could see the openness and honesty on his fiancé's face. Without a doubt, he knew Sam was voicing his number one fear. And Gabriel couldn't help but sympathize. How many times had his mind flashed his number one panic-induced fear of losing Sam over the years? Too many to count honestly, and definitely way more times nowadays than ever before.

"I'm tired, Sam." The words stumbled out before he could cut them off like usual. He caught the hazel eyes widening minutely, and it caused more words to break free. "I'm so fucking tired of all of it." He could feel the pit in his stomach shrink just a bit at the admission. What was he doing? He was going to end up pushing Sam away, and then he'd truly be alone again.

"I know." Sam instantly wrapped him up in his arms, offering strength. "I know you are."

"I can't—I won't survive . . . if . . . I—I can't." Gabriel could see the same image of Sam's lifeless body sprawled out in front of him on the floor that he had seen for days now. Deep down, he knew it was his mind playing tricks on him, but it didn't make it any easier to see. "It's one thing when it was just Cas in my life," he admitted quietly. "The others—Rios even—they didn't matter. I didn't—it didn't even cross my mind about my past coming to bite me in the ass with them. Because I didn't love them, Sam." He shrugged numbly. "They were just there. But you, you're—"

The words quickly lodged in the back of Gabriel's throat. He tried again, but nothing rose any higher than halfway before it stuck once more. He couldn't continue, though. Not about that at least. So, he sighed, hanging his head. He focused on the feel of Sam's hand gently moving in circles around the middle of his back. A few times, Sam paused over an area, his fingers kneading a muscle here and there. He closed his eyes during one of these moments, concentrating on reeling his emotional control back in somehow. He prided himself on his control over himself. It was one thing he was naturally skilled in. He drew in several breaths, holding it, before he felt Sam quickly match his breaths with perfectly timed calming motions of his hand against his back. His fiancé really was a goddamn saint sometimes.

He didn't know how many minutes passed before he finally spoke again. He had a feeling neither of them really cared either, though.

"Ever since Lucifer called, my mind keeps going back to his threat." Gabriel considered stopping right then, letting that be enough. But he knew Sam, or better yet Dean with his luck, would find out sooner or later in his call history, and it'd turn into another thing. "I called the office, Sam." His eyes opened slowly, turning his head to find the beautiful hazel. "I needed to hear your voice after it."

"I didn't know."

He forced a quiet chuckle, shrugging slightly. "You wouldn't have. I got Eileen, who said you were out of town for a bit. I didn't—I didn't know where you were, though, so I was going to check on Cas. Make sure he was safe and then find you." He swallowed down his emotions, desperate to remain in control as he felt his walls crumble underneath the heavy weight of his words. "I can't lose you. I can't. And yesterday, the running off without your phone, it—even knowing you had my phone, it didn't help." He searched Sam's face, seeing the empathy he knew he'd find there. "I can't live without you, and that fucking scares the living shit out of me. Because it used to be only Cas. I never—honestly who cared about me, the coward anyway? But then you—I'd give everything up for you, Sam."

"I don't want you to, though," Sam argued. "I just want you to realize you don't have to shoulder everything anymore. You don't have to be strong all the time. I'm not going to love you any less if it's too much. I understand. And we're partners, right?"

He nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"And partners help one another during tough times. So, please, let me help you. Whatever you need. No questions asked. I only ask that you talk to someone. That's it. That you keep talking."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not?"

"Because you're asking me to tell a complete stranger my life story, Sam. About all the crap I had to endure. And ten bucks says that person either runs screaming or decides to take matters into their own hands with the best intentions but gets hurt in the process."

"You can't just keep it all inside anymore, though. It's hurting you."

"I know." He licked his lips, nodding thoughtfully. "But it's not like I can tell you."

"Why can't you?"

He scoffed, staring at Sam for a moment.

"No. I'm serious," Sam argued. "Why can't you talk to me about it? You've told me some already. I'm clearly not a stranger. And soon you and I are going to do the whole 'for better or worse' thing anyway. So why not?"

"Because."

"Because why?" Sam pressed. "Because you're worried about ruining us somehow? Gabe, if I can't handle whatever you say and end up pulling back, then that's on me, not you."

"Sam."

"No. Gabe, listen to me. Nothing you could say will dramatically change how I feel about you. Will I think a little differently about you? Sure. That could happen. I could also wake up one day, say 'Fuck it', and plop down onto your lap at breakfast before shoving my tongue down your throat in front of Dean. Anything could happen," he casually remarked. "But I know you. I know who I'm marrying. You may be a hell of a director, but, dude, you can't pull the wool over my eyes that well."

"No?" he asked, latching onto it for a moment of levity in their heavy emotional conversation.

"Sorry to burst your bubble, but nope." Sam gave him a warm smile.

"Well, shit."

Sam chuckled, his eyes lighting up in amusement before he kissed Gabe briefly. "I know. Some pretty harsh truths are coming out today, aren't they?"

"You can say that again," Gabriel quipped with a loud exhale. His fingers slid through his sandy waves, closing his eyes for a second. He felt drained and yet also oddly rejuvenated for some reason. "I feel like I'm bouncing from one extreme to another," he admitted quietly.

"That's because you are."

"Sam!" He stared at his fiancé in disbelief, a faint smile still gracing his lips, though.

"What? Too much truth?" he joked, his dimples on full display.

"Just a bit."

"Sorry." Though, the brat clearly wasn't. "Gabe?"

"Yeah?"

"We're getting married next week."

Snorting, Gabriel shook his head before he glanced at his shaggy-haired moose. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" Sam repeated, pulling back with narrowed eyes. "What? You're backing out already?"

"You can't honestly say you want to marry this hot mess after everything that's just happened," Gabe huffed in obvious doubt.

"I can't?" Sam's broad shoulders lifted momentarily before sagging again. "Huh."

"It took your brother years to—"

"You're not Dean, though."

"No. I'm not," he conceded. "But I also don't want to—"

"I'm a big boy," Sam interrupted with a hand to his arm. "I also feel like I need to point out the obvious here. I knew you were a hot mess before you and I ever left that bathroom that night. So, you know, there is that." They quickly dissolved into quiet chuckles. "So, what does that say about me?"

"Yeah." He then slowly moved up off the bench, groaning at how stiff and sore he was. Sam was right there at his side, though. Glancing up at him, he caught Sam's look. "Still want to get married?"

"Definitely. You?"

"Yeah." He was a bit more subdued in his answer. It wasn't that he didn't want to marry Sam. He did. He definitely did. However, he was still uneasy about how unworried his fiancé was about everything. The man should have been running for the hills saving himself from the flaming dumpster fire Gabriel Novak was. "But you have to know that this isn't going to be easy. _I'm_ not easy."

"Really?" Sam's head cocked to the side with a raised brow before the gorgeous hazel eyes flicked down to Gabriel's groin. "Because I could have sworn all I had to do was—"

"Sam!" he shouted, chuckling loudly. "Seriously, who ruined you, my seduce moose?"

His fiancé instantly lowered his lips, murmuring against his gently, "You did." His strong arms quickly wrapped loosely around Gabriel's waist then, pulling him in closer. "And I wouldn't have it any other way either, my horny corgi."

Gabriel instantly sputtered, his mouth dropping. Sam's eyes twinkled in silent laughter.

"Horny corgi?!" He lightly slapped Sam's chest. "You take that back!"

"Or what?" Sam teased. "I mean, you have to admit it fits you rather perfectly. Not only are you short with—"

"—finish that sentence, and I will punch you in the dick."

"—but you are likely the most sex-crazed human there ever was," Sam finished, brushing off Gabriel's threat expertly.

"You've obviously never met Balthazar then," he huffed, crossing his arms as he pulled back from Sam somewhat.

"I'm not really a blond guy honestly." His smirk widened when Gabriel rolled his eyes. "What do you say to us heading back, though? They're probably worrying by now."

"Yeah. Probably," Gabriel sighed, glancing down. Reality always came back at some point. They quickly headed back with him letting Sam take the lead. However, the second he saw the familiar black Chevy Impala with Kansas plates, Gabriel slowed his approach. "Sam?" It was a coincidence. Had to be.

"Yeah?"

"Tell me that's not—"

"Baby?" offered his fiancé with an unsympathetic, unconcerned shrug. "I can't tell you that because it'd be a lie. Sorry."

Gabriel's eyes widened. "You stole your brother's car?!"

Of all the reckless things he had ever seen Sam do, this took the cake. Oh, Dean was going to murder them. He was going to slice Gabriel into little pieces and feed him to the nearest dog. And that was if he was lucky. Which he wasn't. At all.

"Calm down. It's not that bad."

"You stole your brother's car, Sam!" The hell it wasn't _that_ bad! "You don't ever mess with a man's car. Ever! That's like—it's like bro code, dude!"

Sam rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "Gabe, it's fine."

"Yeah, of course you'd say that because Dean's not going to murder you."

"He's not going to murder you either."

"Want to bet?"

"Quit being dramatic. It's fine. Dean taught me how to drive in this car. It's not like I hotwired her." Sam shrugged. "And he's going to be pissed for two hours tops, but then he'll get over it. Hell, he's probably already over it considering he hasn't even tried to call me since we've been out here."

"I can't believe you stole his car."

"I can't believe you're that upset over it," he chuckled. "You'd think it was your car I stole."

"You don't mess with a guy's car, Sam. Just like you don't mess around with someone a guy loves either. You just don't. Them's the rules, bucko. And you broke them."

"Gabe, I'm telling you. Dean knows. And considering he hasn't stormed down here in Cas's shitty truck, he's over it already. It's fine."

He shook his head, though, not convinced. "Your brother is never going to like me now."

"My brother doesn't know you," Sam pointed out with a shrug, dangling the keys in his hand.

Sighing, they slid into Baby. Dean was going to murder them. And that was if they were lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to skip a few days in the next chapter. Zoom calls abound will happen, and Dean gets his revenge. :)
> 
> In other news, I've been challenged to write a fluff piece so that oneshot will probably be posted soon as it shouldn't (I say that now but who honestly knows) be too long until posting.
> 
> Also, I signed up for the Gabriel Big Bang for next year, and, oh, man, I can't wait to sink my teeth in it. :D Until later. Sorry for the breaks.


	7. Family Affairs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all. Hopefully this wasn't too long of a wait for you. If all goes according to plan, this fic should be finished in two or three more chapters. I may break up a chapter as I pull everything together finally. Let's see. Um, the only thing I have to say about this chapter is... finally! :D Enjoy.

Four days passed by since Lucifer's message appeared in the dead of night. Ever since, the two-story, nondescript old white farmhouse just outside of Pontiac, IL had been relatively quiet. In fact, not a single screen door had opened after the woman was ushered inside, which would have been unusual.

Sitting behind his ornate writing desk and nursing what had to be his third glass of whisky that morning already, Chuck Shurley watched a storm brewing on the horizon. He had sent his son out a few hours earlier. His jaw worked slowly back and forth as his eyes constricted in a calculating manner.

He was so close. So damn close!

Drawing in a slow, even breath, he clenched his jaw some more before he finally threw his tumbler hard against the wall, sending shattered glass onto the floor a moment later.

Damn it!

Why had his boys been so damn rebellious all the goddamn time!

He had only wanted the best for them. Like any father did. Didn't they see that?

He wasn't cruel. He wasn't unjust. Everything he did was for his children. Everything!

It wasn't his fault his children were Hell spawned monsters thanks to their poisonous mothers.

If his boys weren't so unruly and rebellious all the time, he never would have had to instill such harsh disciplines on them. He wanted to mold them into good people, make them better than he was. But somewhere his methods had failed, and his boys grew to become angry and spiteful sadly.

Losing Gavriel and Cassiel had hurt deeply. More than he'd have ever liked to admit even. And then he lost Anna, his sweet and only daughter, to a tragic, senseless accident a day later. It wasn't fair.

Rising from his leather-bound high-backed chair, he slowly strode across the room to the far wall that held his last family portrait with all his children. His eyes closed briefly before the sigh heaved out of him like a dying breath. He turned away to the wall on his left, shaking his head. So senseless.

Lucifer should have been happy with Chloe. She was perfect for him. An exact match in wits and, wow, was she a beauty as well. She should have easily been able to tame that wildness in his second eldest. And she did. To a point. So Chuck had to be strict and remind his boy of the cost when he strayed from his path. He had given Chloe to Lucifer. He could sure as hell take her away then too.

Of course Chuck wasn't malevolent by any means. He knew how much Lucifer loved her. It was why Chuck had given the order to scare only. Though, he supposed he should have anticipated the unfortunate misstep from his so-called Angel of Mercy. He made it right later, however. Once Chuck had learned what had happened, the father of seven ordered his eldest to deal with that mess too.

A faint smile then curled Chuck's lips upwards. He idly wondered if Chloe liked the floral arrangement he had sent as an apology. He had instructed the florist to use all her favorites and to spare no expenses. It was the least he could do after all for his soon-to-be daughter-in-law one day. He wanted her to be happy and feel welcomed into the Shurley family. Just as he'd have done for Dean if he knew. He'd get it right, though, with Sam.

A gentle knock against his door tore him from his musings then. The patriarch sighed inwardly, keeping his back to the door. So it began.

"Come in," he called out, his jaw tightening in growing unease.

"I apologize for interrupting, Father," murmured his eldest quietly. "But it's been taken care of."

Chuck gradually turned towards him, offering a faint, friendly smile. "It's fine, Michael." He walked over to his son and gave a subdued chuckle. "That's honestly the best news I've heard of in quite some time. Thank you." It was second only to the fact that his rebellious boys were still alive. He gently patted his son's arm just above Michael's elbow. "I knew I could always count on you."

His eldest lowered his eyes with a hidden smile of pride at the rare praise.

"Where are the others?"

"Amenadiel is dealing with Rios. He was more than happy to obey once I showed him the video. It should happen soon. And I've got Raphael now taking care of the other loose ends. Discretely of course." Michael's chin rose. "As long as no one gets in our way, we should finish by week's end."

Chuck let out a loud exhale of relief and grinned widely. "Perfect. Thank you." He gently patted Michael's arm once more, chuckling quietly. Everything was coming together nicely. He inhaled deeply, feeling lighter and freer again. "Soon we'll be a family again, Michael. Like it should have been."

* * *

A day later in Lawrence, KS, Gabriel stared at his phone with a look of absolute dread. When it chirped again to alert him to another Facebook message being received, he winced. This was not good. Not at all. More quick chirps came in before messages started to come in at record speeds.

When lips suddenly smushed against his cheek in a ridiculously messy kiss, Gabriel let out a quiet noise, hearing the responding snort next to his ear soon after.

"Should I be worried?" Sam remarked with a teasing look before he flopped down on the sofa. He was almost pressed firm against his side.

Any other time, Gabriel would have loved how close his fiancé was right then. However, in that moment, all he could think about was how they could be caught at any moment by Dean. And all those heated furious glares he had been receiving for the past few days from the green eyes of distrust. Not to mention, there was the quaint little fact how he had passed Sam's deadline of getting on Dean's good side, if there was even a good side to be on, which seemed less than possible these days.

He wouldn't poke the bear. In fact, he was so done jabbing it with the two-by-four. He was now onto pacifying it, showing the grumpy, cowboy-loving bear he wasn't a threat. So, he did the decent thing and scooted a respectable distance from Sam. He moved to where it seemed plausible for two dudes who were just friends would be sitting together on a sofa. At least he hoped it was.

Sam laughed at this reaction, shaking his head. "Seriously?"

Gabriel opened his mouth to retort but closed it with another violent flinch when his phone chirped loudly again. A second later, he watched in horror as Sam yanked his phone out of his hands to glance at it. _Damn it, Sam._

"Wow. Messaging your ex right beside me," his fiancé drawled, lips quirking up in amusement as bluish hazel eyes twinkled in silent laughter. "Maybe I should tell the wedding singer that it's off."

"You're an ass," Gabriel huffed, hating the implication even if he knew Sam was only joking.

"Says the man avoiding his ex when it's obvious Rios wants to talk."

"He's going to yell. He's going to rant and call me every name in the book and—"

"Yeah. Probably." Sam nodded thoughtfully. "But, you know, all of this could have been avoided if we had just— _oh I don't know_ —told Dean the truth on Day One."

"Sam—"

"—Gabriel—"

"—your brother hates me."

"My brother doesn't know you. He knows bits and pieces. That's it." He shrugged back lightly. "I mean, I know more about Cas, and he and I barely talk, than Dean knows about you."

"Has it crossed your brilliant mind yet about the cute little fact if your brother knew me, the real me, how very much against us he'd be?"

"That's pure speculation."

"No. It's fact."

"Based on what evidence?" His lip twitched when Gabriel's phone unexpectedly chirped a few more times in his hand. "I mean it." He handed back the phone. "On the fact he's pissed that _I_ took his precious car out for a joyride the other day? Because trust me, Gabe. He's not mad at you. Honest."

"Oh, really?" He crossed his arms and raised a brow. "Then why is it your brother glares at me every chance he gets?" Not to mention all the infuriating remarks and jackass moves Dean did.

"Guilt by association."

"Sam," he groaned loudly, feeling a headache coming on. There was only so much nerdy Sam he could take if he were honest. He heard the snicker and then felt Sam lacing their hands briefly before his fiancé withdrew his hand again.

"You should talk to Rios."

"And say what exactly?"

"You could apologize for turning his life upside down again. Or at least listen to him rant."

"I'd rather be eaten by sharks."

Sam's smirk grew as he slowly leaned back into his space. "And I'd much rather be eating—'

"Dude!" Dean's gruff voice interrupted suddenly before he stepped into the living room a second later. That had been happening more and more times lately. "Are you puttin' moves on my kid brother in _my_ house?" Lush green eyes narrowed into slits as he glanced between them suspiciously.

"What?" Gabriel instantly leaned way back from his grinning fiancé, almost sinking into the sofa's back to put space between them. "No! Of course not!" He hated how panicky he sounded, but Dean could throw him out onto the streets or lock him up or something. "Your brother's so not my type. I don't go for good boys." His hand waved lazily. "Or, hell, Fabio types. Honest. We're just friends."

"That true?" Dean grunted, jerking his chin towards his younger brother.

Sam shrugged casually. "How the fuck would I know what he likes? You heard him. We're _just_ friends." He leaned back indifferently as his earlier playfulness was replaced with sudden impassivity.

"Good." Dean then pointed a finger at Gabriel. "Because if I ever catch you near my brother, dude, you and I are going to the train station for a one-way. Understood?"

"Seriously?" Sam groaned, scoffing. "A _Yellowstone_ reference? You need a case or something. Or at least binge better shows."

"Hey!" Dean snapped his fingers with a glare. "We do not insult _Yellowstone_ in this house." When Gabriel's phone suddenly rang, Dean's eyes widened slightly before he blinked back his surprise. "You need to get that?"

"Uh," Gabriel started to say, glancing down at his ringing phone. Not if he could help it, no.

"It's Rios," Sam supplied after a moment.

"Oh." Dean paused, scratching at the slight scruff starting to grow. "Here. Let me get you set up in the other room so you can Zoom with him in private."

"What?"

"If the guy's breaking protocol and calling that much, then clearly he's desperate. So, just get it over with already and grow a pair. Dude is probably going insane locked up. It's the least you can do."

"Exactly," Sam agreed traitorously.

It was difficult not to react to that betrayal. Sam knew exactly why he shouldn't take Rios's call.

"Fine," Gabriel groaned, glancing upwards. "I'll talk to my ex." With a light pop in his knee, he made a move to push up onto his feet. Only Dean's voice stopped him a second later in his tracks.

"Actually, you know what, why get up? Why not talk to him here?" Dean offered casually.

"Because he's in witness protection for one?" Gabriel remarked, staring at his brother-in-law incredulously. There was no way Dean was serious. None.

"So?" He shrugged. "I'm FBI. Sam's a lawyer. Cas was a US Marshal. What does that matter?"

"You're joking, right?"

Dean smirked. "Unless there's some other reason you don't want us here?" He crossed his arms. "Like, say, you're cheating with him? Maybe that's why you're no longer—"

"I don't cheat, Winchester," snapped Gabriel, amber eyes flashing dangerously. He caught Dean's shock but didn't back down. He never once cheated on any of his partners before. However, the same could not be said for his partners when it came to him unfortunately. And that hurt badly.

"My mistake," apologized his brother-in-law, lowering his head respectfully.

"Fine. You want to hear Rios rant and yell? Peachy." Gabriel unlocked his phone angrily, quickly starting a Zoom call. It had only been four and a half years since the two had last spoken directly and not through Messenger text. It took a moment before the video started, and then there was the handsome, bearded, salt-and-pepper haired man up on his screen. "Andres, before you start, let me introduce you to our audience today," he quipped harshly, panning his phone. "That's Sam, my lawyer _friend_ from New York." He then turned his phone. "And that's his brother, Dean, who is an FBI agent."

" _Howdy,"_ Rios remarked bitterly. _"Never fails. You always did love an audience, don't you?"_

"I didn't do this!" And so it begins.

" _Yeah, you never do. Strange that, hmm?"_

Yep. It was exactly like their last conversation all over again. Nothing but bitter resentment and anger towards one another. They once used to be happy, or close to it, but that was a lifetime ago.

"What do you want?" Gabriel demanded, trying to keep the anger from his voice and failing.

" _What do I want? Oh, a million dollars would be nice. Or, hell, not being locked up here in some damn safe house because you don't have the fucking balls—"_

"—you don't know—"

" _No?"_ The dark eyes glanced off screen briefly to the side Sam was on before Rios forced his gotcha smile. _"I know if I was going to marry that fucking gorgeous man of yours, I'd be shouting it from the damn rooftops! Not hiding it like your cheesy romance movies in your drawer on the right."_

By some miracle, none of them reacted to that statement.

Rios continued, _"I'd also be fucking him every chance I got and saying screw his backwoods family and their possible idiotic views because at the end of the day he's in my bed, soon wearing my ring on his finger, and undoubtedly mine and mine alone. But, then again, what do I know?"_

"Obviously you don't know shit." He could feel his heart spike and the heated glare from Dean.

" _Oh, so that's how you want to play it?"_ Rios threatened, knowing he had Gabriel. _"You forget. I know where all the bodies are buried in your particular graveyard."_ He leaned back casually. _"At least the ones I found myself after being with you for—what was it—seven years or so?"_

Amber eyes darted from the screen guiltily. Maybe that was where it all went wrong.

" _In fact, I bet my next role you haven't even let him in once. Let him see the real you. The one behind those stupid masks of yours. Face it. You will always keep him at a distance, protecting the one person besides your brother who matters—yourself."_ Rios then gave a harsh, cold chuckle. _"So, thanks for the invite. I know it was from your fiancé, not you, but I'm going to have to decline. You see, I'm planning on being deep in some models then, forgetting all about you and how once again you decided to come into my life like the tornado you are and wreck it all to shit."_ He shook his head. _"The best thing you ever did for me—and I mean this truly—was deciding to cut me from that movie of yours."_

"I let you go because we were dating, you sanctimonious prick!"

" _No. You cut me because you couldn't stand seeing others have their hands on me. So, that said. I wish you and your fiancé—poor sap he is—all the best. But, man, honestly, step up and fight for what you want for once. Stop being this cowardly version of yourself."_ His voice then lost its earlier callousness. This was the Rios he knew best. From before him. _"Before you lose the one person who can put up with your baggage of Hell and loves you like you deserve to be loved."_ The Zoom then ended.

* * *

When Dean sat down on the swing the following evening, Cas raised a brow. He caught his husband's look of guilt and shook his head, turning back to the sunset he had been watching.

"What'd you do now?" Because that particular look on his husband's face always meant that.

"I think I broke your brother," Dean sighed, running a hand through his hair with a groan.

Cas paused, taking a sip of his tea for a moment. He let the admission settle between them before he swallowed and replied quietly, "Why do you say that?" And, more importantly, how did he do that?

"Because he hasn't said a word all day and has been hiding with Sam." Dean heaved another heavy sigh, letting his head fall onto Cas's shoulder to watch the sunset too. "I made him talk to Rios."

"I sincerely doubt you made Gabriel do anything."

"I goaded him into it, though."

"He's still an adult. He could have chosen not to."

"I did it with Sam beside him, Cas."

His head tilted slightly. Ah. "I see. And you think that caused my brother to talk to his ex?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I made a stupid comment before it, though, and you know . . ."

"About Rios and Gabriel? Yes. I was unfortunately privy to many of their fights. They were very much like oil and vinegar." He then snorted, taking another small sip before swallowing. "Over an open flame," he added a beat later. And that was putting it lightly. He never did understand why they dated.

"Cas."

"Dean." He turned towards his husband, shaking his head lightly. "You did not break Gabriel. His not talking is likely a result of him trying to deal with all the deeply buried emotions bubbling back up after his break-up, which he clearly never dealt with over the years. He'll get over it." He then shrugged. "Or he'll go on a drunken bender. Either way, Gabriel will be fine."

"You're not worried?"

"About my brother?" Cas scoffed, rolling his eyes as he waved a hand dramatically. "No, I'm absolutely 100 percent not worried about that because I know he's in a good place currently."

"Is he?"

"What?"

"Is he really in a good place? I mean, Sam said he was pretty—"

"He's doing the work. He is. He's following what Tenent said. He's doing the exercises. More than what can be said for us honestly. He's trying, Dean. He's wanting to get right with himself." He shrugged. "If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say the day at the lake with Sam woke him up finally." He then motioned towards his husband. "You saw him after they returned. His first action was to apologize to you for the car. For his outburst. Neither of which was even remotely his fault."

"Yeah, no, I get that, but you have to admit that he—listen, I'm not saying—I like the guy, all right? I do. Your brother is a good guy."

"But?" Cas murmured, slowly turning towards him with a raised brow and hard blue eyes.

"I don't want Sam to get hurt. All right?"

He turned away. This again? "Give your brother more credit, Dean. He is more than capable."

"Hey, no, I mean, dude, you've seen what happens sometimes. That day at the lake could have went really bad really quick for them."

"But it didn't, so there is no point in dwelling on the what ifs."

"Sam said he was out of it. Like, really out of it. To the point where it wasn't your brother."

"Yes. I'm aware." He waved his hand again. "In fact, I've seen those moments myself firsthand while growing up with him. I've had to coax him out of it more than a few times. He's fine, Dean."

"Until he's not. Until he's sneaking out at all hours of the night and—"

"Gabriel is not you."

"Yeah, I know that. I just—you heard Tenent. He's hard on himself. He's convinced himself that nothing good happens to him. I know what that's like. And if he wasn't at all terrified of me—"

"—I wonder why that is," Cas dryly interrupted, turning back to the sliver of sun left.

"I'm trying. All right? I'm trying to reach out to him. But he doesn't want anything to do with me. In fact, he often gets up and leaves every chance I try. Do I mess with him from time to time, more so these past few days? Yeah. But, I mean, it's just for distractions and stuff for him. For fun."

"And you think that's helping? Playing mind games with him in the same way our father did?"

"I am nothing like your dad, dude!" Dean scoffed, sitting up suddenly and pulling back.

"No. You're not," he conceded, "but you're certainly playing similar games with him."

"Because he pulls the same shit with us sometimes. Not to mention, catching him off guard like that is the only time I can manage to get him not to rush out of the room and talk to me."

Or rather rant. "And yet he hasn't done anything remotely similar since the lake incident. Has he?" Cas shrugged. "In fact, he's almost trying to be respectful to you." Well, in his own way that was.

"So, then, _what_? I'm just supposed to ignore the fact that at any moment your brother could have another episode and—"

Having heard quite enough of this discussion, he whirled back to his husband and shook his head. "Dean, stop. You have nothing to worry about whatsoever."

"How can you promise that?"

"Because for once in my life, my brother has someone other than me to rely on. Someone to talk to. Someone he wants to let in. He's seeing a way out of our childhood trauma and a way to heal finally. So, please, stop trying to be the big overprotective brother here for once. He's fine."

"Cas, all it takes is for one—"

"—I can't believe this—" He batted his hand at Dean dismissively.

"—how many times did I snap at you? Push you away, Cas?"

"He is not you."

"I know. But I didn't believe you and I could be a thing either. Just as he believes. Hell, I nearly walked away from you once. Convinced you'd leave me one day and that it was just best for all of us if I just walked away right then before we got in too deep."

"Dean—"

And then came the admission. "If anything happens to him, Cas, _anything_ , it will wreck Sam."

Blue eyes angrily darted to the patio door before he glanced back at his husband. He leaned towards his ear. "Dean Winchester, you infuriating assbutt," he growled, glaring, "you do not get a say in our brothers' lives. And you most definitely do not get to interfere with anything that might or might not be happening there between them. That is between them and them alone."

"But, Cas, I mean, they want to get—"

"Doesn't matter." Because it truly didn't matter in the slightest.

"It does too matter, dumbass!"

"No. It doesn't, Dean!"

"A courthouse, dude! A legit courthouse wed—"

"And that is their choice!" he growled dangerously, clenching his jaw to keep his voice low. How the hell did Dean know? "Not ours. Our job here is to support them in whatever capacity they need. That is it. However, until they decide to let us know, we are to remain oblivious, seeing as how they clearly do not wish us to know about their plans yet. Do you understand me? It is _their_ choice to let us know! It is _their_ choice where their union happens. And it is most assuredly _their_ choice—damn it, Dean—to love one another however they see fit without us adding our cents on their relationship."

"Fine."

"Thank you," he huffed.

"But why aren't they telling us?" Dean asked a moment later. "Like, are they afraid we won't approve or something?"

Cas's eyes rolled to the heavens. Sometimes he truly wondered about his husband.

"That's it, isn't it?" Dean asked. "They're afraid we'll say something."

"Considering you just made a comment regarding my brother's mental state and insinuating he would harm Sam, yes, that would be a plausible explanation as to why they haven't said anything yet, I'd imagine," Cas drawled back with a long suffering sigh. "I certainly wouldn't."

"Then all I need to do is show them that we're cool with them." Dean kissed his cheek with a smirk. "It's so simple. Thanks, angel." He then hopped up and rushed back inside.

Cas groaned in response, glancing upwards. _Oh, grant me strength, Heavenly Father . . ._

* * *

A day later and after what was probably the most awkward breakfast they'd had yet during quarantine, Sam glanced across the table towards Gabe, who seemed to be deep in thought still about something. When Dean suggested out of the blue a moment later that Gabe help him with dishes, Sam's head whipped towards Cas, wondering what the hell was going on. His brother-in-law only shrugged, though, and excused himself a moment later with a clear look of annoyance on his face.

Sam considered joining his fiancé, saving him from Dean if need be, but Gabe had waved him away and followed Dean into the kitchen. Sam ignored the snickers from his niece and amused look from his nephew. Thankfully, his phone decided to lend him a distraction.

The second he pulled his phone out and saw that Eileen was calling, he smiled warmly and accepted her video chat. He waved at her like the world's biggest dork, seeing her responding laugh.

" _Hello, Sam."_

"Hello," he replied slowly, using his free hand to sign that to her as well. He was learning.

" _No. No,"_ she laughed more, shaking her head. _"You're terrible at it. Just talk. Please. You'll hurt my eyes otherwise."_

He chuckled, nodding back. "Fair enough." He moved from the table towards the guest room. "What do you have for me?"

" _Three possibilities,"_ she answered, pausing for a moment. _"Is it safe?"_

He closed the door behind him and nodded. "It is now." He watched three photos pop up on his screen, assuming these were her three candidates she had found for him. "Anyone stand out to you?"

" _I'm deaf, remember?"_ Her tone was light before she nodded, leaving up only one photo of a squirrely-looking man in thick glasses and a scruffy looking beard. _"I had Becky listen to him, and she said he sounded the best out of the three. And he knew the song as well."_

"Really?"

She nodded. _"The odd thing, however, is when I spoke about the fee and went over the details, he said he didn't need to be paid. To consider it a gift. That he'd feel horrible charging anything."_

That was strange. Sam's eyes narrowed. "You did a background check?"

" _He checked out. And his references were all glowing according to Becky."_

"Do you have a sample?"

She gave him the 'What do you think?' look before he received the notification asking if he wanted to download the file or not. He instantly accepted and watched the short clip. The second he heard the man's voice, he chuckled, shaking his head. The man's voice reminded him of Gabe.

"Eileen, what would I do without you?"

" _Bitch probably,"_ she joked, her smile wide. Her eyes shone beautifully in the warm light.

"He's perfect. Tell him he's hired and give all the necessary details."

" _Will do, Chief._ "

He groaned, shaking his head. "Please don't do that." It was bad enough half the office said it.

She laughed, though. _"So . . . how are things going?"_

Shrugging, Sam held up a hand. "I don't know. It's a bit like we crossed over in the _Twilight Zone_ now I think." He scratched at the back of his head and sighed. "Dean's been asking Gabe to join him on things since yesterday. Like, they're currently doing dishes together."

" _That's cute."_

"Yeah. I guess."

" _Do you think he suspects?"_

"Dean?" Sam snorted. "No. Because my dick of a fiancé keeps lying every chance he can get."

" _Why? Your brother isn't that scary."_

"Exactly what I said," Sam replied, grateful that she understood him. "But Gabe is convinced Dean is going to punch him or something."

" _And how is he doing otherwise?"_

"I don't know. All right. He still hasn't said anything to Dean of course. So, you know, we're still pretending we're just friends like teenagers. Trust me. It lost its interest after Day 3."

" _Ouch."_

"Yeah." He shrugged. "And with the new meds Gabe's on, he's pretty much knocked out on the sofa most nights lately so we're taking a break. I guess. I don't know."

" _Sam,"_ she stated, raising a brow as she leaned back from the screen. Her look was still semi-playful, but she was clearly giving him the 'Quit bullshitting me' look.

"What?"

" _You're worried about him."_

"No. He and I are good. Really. I'm just—I don' t know—I miss him at night, and I thought this would have gone differently. I mean, we're getting married in five days, Eileen. Five!"

" _You could always tell your brother the truth."_

"I could," he agreed. "And the thought has been crossing my mind a lot lately."

" _But?"_

"If Dean—I didn't say anything against him and Cas. I didn't. I was all for it. I had reservations at first, sure, because my brother shot the guy, but I didn't say anything about that. It wasn't my place. But for some reason Dean has always been against Gabe. And he doesn't even know him."

" _Sounds like Dean's trying to now, though."_

"Yeah, it does. But that's the thing. I said Gabe had a week to tell Dean. We're now on Day Nine, and he still hasn't said anything. He's still pretending every chance he can. It's rather ridiculous."

" _You haven't said anything either, Sam,"_ she pointed out.

"Yeah, no, that's fair." He shrugged. "I honestly don't get how my brother can be so dense, though. Short of me making out with Gabe at breakfast, I've made it rather obvious we're together."

" _Are you sure then your brother doesn't know?"_

"Positive. He hasn't done any of his usual past tactics when someone's with me. And everything he's done to Gabe, it's just your run-of-the-mill crap he's always pulled on him since the wedding."

She shrugged back. _"I don't know what to tell you then. Except you better tell him soon. Before he finds out on his own."_ She then glanced off screen for a moment before she came back. _"I've got ADA Barba calling. We'll talk more later?"_

"Yeah. Thanks, Eileen."

She smiled back before she disconnected their video call.

Sam sighed heavily a second later. What was he going to do?

When he heard a plate break a second later followed by Dean's surprised yell, he flew out of his room and into the kitchen. He sent a quick prayer that he wasn't about to walk in on them fist fighting. Again. His eyes darted between Dean and Gabe who were bending down to pick up the broken pieces.

"What happened?"

"I dropped a plate," his brother grumbled.

"No. It's my fault," Gabe countered, shaking his head. "I didn't—"

"Dude, it's fine. It was totally my fault," Dean argued, frowning back before he glanced at Sam briefly. "I didn't notice you were still working on drying the other bowl."

"I'm sorry."

"It's a plate, man. It's fine. Not the end of the world."

That seemed to get Gabe back to himself for the moment as he nodded stiffly. "Right. Yeah. You're right. It's just a plate." He cleared his throat. "Sorry."

Dean nodded as well. "No worries. You good, though? Or do you need to get out or something? You and Sam could take Baby out again or—"

"What?"

Sam winced inwardly before he gave his brother his best bitch face. _Smooth, Dean._

"I just mean if you want you can take my car and—"

Gabe's eyes darted to Sam before he turned back to Dean. "Don't do that."

"Do what?" Dean's brows knit together in obvious confusion.

"Don't handle me with kid gloves, Winchester."

Dean scoffed, clearly irritated by Gabe's insinuation. "Yeah? Says the man who tried to hide the fact he had hurt himself the first hour you were in my house," his brother retorted curtly.

"Hey, that's enough," Sam barked, glaring at his older brother. What the hell was his problem?

"Wait. Is that what you've been doing this entire time?" Gabe demanded. "Doing some sort of risk analysis to see if I'm a threat to your family under the pretense of getting to know me?"

"No. Of course not. Jeez."

"I'm not suicidal, Dean!"

Sam stepped forward, gently placing a hand to the small of Gabe's back. Alpha males. Really.

"Good. I'm glad to hear that, man," Dean remarked, "but that's not what I was doing. Honest."

"What more do I have to—seriously?"

"Hey, it's all right," Sam interrupted softly. "Dean's just being his usual idiot fucking self."

"Is that what you think too, Sam?" Gabe asked, though, brushing aside his words. "That I . . . I . . ." Amber eyes stared deeply into the hazel, searching them frantically for something.

"No." Sam took another step forward and grabbed both of Gabe's trembling hands. "I don't." He gave his hands a gentle but firm squeeze. "I know you. Remember?"

Gabe's eyes glanced back towards Dean over Sam's shoulder.

"I'm not a threat to your family. I wouldn't hurt any of you. Or myself. At least not intentionally. And if I did, I'd do everything I could to make it up. Or if it was unforgivable, I'd leave. If I thought for even a second that I was a danger, I'd leave, Dean."

"I'm sorry. All right?" He paused for a second. "I shouldn't have insinuated—"

"What more do I have to do for you? What more do you want?"

"Nothing, man. I'm sorry. I was wrong. I shouldn't have said—"

Gabe scoffed, though, yanking his hands back. He then turned to Sam. "This. This right here is why I said—do you get it now? Nothing I do will ever be enough. Nothing!" He shook his head angrily. "I have done everything you asked, Dean! I've followed your rules. I answered your damn questions! What more do I have to do before you finally trust me? That you finally see I'm not the enemy here?"

"I never said you were," Dean argued.

"You've treated me like crap, Winchester. Ever since I showed up here. Before then actually. Since the night before your wedding. Oh, sure, you put on a good face when Cas or, hell, Sam even is around. But when it's just us? You start doing the same shit Dad used to do. Waiting for me to screw up. Hell, I bet you dropped that plate on purpose even just to see if you'd get this sort of reaction out of me."

"Are you—dude! Come on! I was not—"

"The comments? The little quips here and there? The little poke here and prod there to get a reaction? The popping in at random times to catch me? Seriously? That's all a coincidence? Really?"

"No," Dean admitted, closing his eyes with a pained look. "But the plate was. And it was definitely my fault. I wasn't paying attention and thought you were ready for it. It's my mistake."

Gabriel stepped towards him threateningly a second later.

"I have enough going on inside my head without you adding to it with your own mind games. All right? I am trying—Fuck it! Let's just get this out there once and for all. What is your fucking problem with me? Why do you hate me so damn much? I've apologized for my actions at the wedding."

"I don't hate you!" Dean's wide eyes darted to Sam with an obvious look of distress.

"Well, you obviously don't like me for some reason. So, come on, Winchester. Say it! What is it about me that riles you up so damn much? Because let me tell you something, buck-o. If the roles were reversed and I was treating you like this, you can bet your sweet bowlegs that Cassie and Sammy here would have dropped me like a damned fool onto this floor. So, come on! What is it? What is it about me that drives you so damn mad all the time that you'd be such a petty little bitch all the damn time?"

"Drop it, man." Dean shook his head.

"Coward!"

"Gabriel!" Sam shouted, noticing Cas rushing into the room and assessing the scene.

"Fine!" Dean roared back, stepping into Gabe's space with a pissed off look. "You want to know what I've been mad about for years, asshole?" His glare hardened. "You should have fucking punched me the second you found out who I was. What I did to Cas. You should have been that perfect big brother he raved about. Instead, you couldn't even look at me. You didn't even want to be near me. To get to know me. To give me the chance to prove to YOU how sorry I was for what I did. Instead, you decided to try to ruin our wedding. Like the petty bitch you are. And then—oh man—then I find out the truth. I find out why you are the way asshole you are, and it pisses me off all over again because I can't even justify my anger towards you anymore. Because it's stupid. It's one hundred percent idiotic considering the hell you went through. But, hey, that's on brand for me, so what the hell, right?"

Sam stepped in between the two alpha males, noticing Cas pulling Dean back.

"I don't hate you, Gabriel," Dean declared. "I never did! I hated that you don't hate me! I hated the fact that you accepted me when you should have done this, put me through the paces, made me prove myself to you after what I did. But now none of that matters. Because I have a new reason now. I hate how Cas was right and how similar we are. How you are on the same path I was, but that you are actually trying to get better without hitting rock bottom first like I did. So, spoiler alert! I'm jealous of you. All right? Happy now? There's the big ol' secret, man. I'm jealous of you. Because you are so much stronger than I was. I'd have broken with all the shit you went through. But you, nah, you just keep fighting. You could have done what I did, threw yourself into booze, but you didn't. You fight it."

"No. Instead of booze, I threw myself into people. Wow! Something so great to be proud of there," Gabe quipped. "Manwhore of the Year until 2015 right here, Winchester."

"I shot your brother!"

"And I—"

Sam's hand slapped hard against Gabe's mouth, cutting him off. This was so not the place.

"Come on. Let's get out of here," suggested the lawyer, forcing his and Gabe's eyes to meet. "Let's cool off." When he saw the annoyance, he sighed heavily and lowered his hand. "Please?" When he caught his fiancé's reluctant surrender, he turned around, pausing when Dean slapped the keys to Baby again into his hand. Without another word, he took them and headed to the door with Gabriel.

"Gabriel?"

Sam's broad shoulders hunched up defensively at hearing his brother's voice. _Damn it, Dean._

"What?" Gabe growled back, keeping his back to Sam's brother.

"I'm sorry you felt like you had to prove yourself to me."

"Is that all?"

"No." Dean sighed heavily. "That's not it. I wanted, um—I know about you and Sam."

Both Sam and Gabe's head swiveled violently towards him. _Huh?_

"And I know that you two are getting married. Cas didn't want me to say anything because he felt like it was something you two needed to say. And he's probably right honestly. However, I needed you to know I know. And while I know my opinion doesn't matter here whatsoever, I'm okay with it."

Sam's eyes widened in surprise. Was he dreaming? Had he somehow been knocked out?

"Gabriel, I'm an idiot about a lot of things," Dean continued. "And I stick my foot in my mouth a lot. But I need you to understand, man. I see the way Sam looks at you. I see the way you look back at him. I see how he can calm you with just a touch. You two are good for each other. Seriously. And that too frankly pissed me off. Neither of you felt like you could say anything because of me. That you felt like you two had to hide it just so I wouldn't ruin it. And that hurts to think you'd even think that."

"You know?" Gabe repeated quietly, his voice hushed.

"I do." He nodded. "Course I had to find out from my partner, but yeah, I know."

"Wait. How does the FBI know about Gabe and me?"

"They stumbled upon it when he gave the name of Sam Wesson as his fiancé," Dean replied with a shrug. He then glanced back at Gabriel. "Saw your cute little proposal thing with the Ring Pop. You clearly got a flair for romance, and you treat Sammy good. He could do worse, I guess, is what I'm saying."

"How did you see our proposal?" Gabe blinked. "I had my agents scrub all social media of it. They sent cease and desist emails to everyone. And went after the ones who didn't listen."

"I don't know. It was on YouTube," Dean shrugged. "They must have missed one."

When Gabe didn't say anything else, Sam asked, "You're honestly okay with this? Really?"

"Yeah. I'd be a dumbass if I wasn't, dude. You two clearly love one another. I'm not going to step in between that." Dean then took a step forward, holding his hand out to Gabe. "So I promise to be less of an asshole, if you promise to keep loving my dopey kid brother like you already do. Deal?"

Gabe glanced at Dean's hand briefly before he nodded and grabbed his hand to shake it. "Deal."

Well, Sam would be damned. Hell had frozen over.


	8. Friendly Reminders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos, comments, etc you've left for this. I truly appreciate all of it. I'm starting to wrap up storylines so this story is winding down and inching closer to the finish line. Enjoy the two chapters. :)

Three days before the big event, Jack sat cross-legged on his bed, messing around on his laptop. Things had gotten better since he had talked with Clark. He had also tried to talk to another of his friends, one he had met at a party he had gone to with Claire. However, he had ended up blocking that so-called _friend_ and unfriended them rather quickly. And then he tried random Discord servers, but that went horribly off the rails right away. And the other chats elsewhere—there were only so many random shots of a strangers' junk he could handle in a day. Not to mention, it was just getting plain awkward when he'd receive notifications at the dinner table about another pic with his dads right there.

When the first chime alerted him to Clark's being on after nearly a week of silence, Jack tried to ignore it. He did. But it didn't last long because he admittedly needed some form of normality these days. And he certainly was not getting that at home with his uncles and dads. Not after becoming so used to their constant fighting. It was just weird now how easily everyone was getting along. But mostly he missed his roommate.

He clicked over to the app Clark was on, biting his lip before he sent his video chat request.

Several minutes passed before his roommate finally popped up on his screen.

" _Jack?"_

"Hi," he replied, waving awkwardly.

" _Is everything okay? Did something happen?"_

"No. Not really. For once, everyone seems to be getting along. It's strange."

Clark chuckled, smiling warmly. _"So, why the vid chat?"_

"Truth?"

" _Yeah. Course."_

"I missed you." Jack then bit his lip and sighed, his eyes falling to the comforter briefly. "And I don't mean in, like, a romantic way. Because I still don't like you like that. I just . . . you're my best friend. And we haven't talked since that night, and I wanted to know how things are for you since we used to see each other every day and—"

" _Now not so much?"_ Clark offered, interrupting quietly with a lopsided smirk. _"I'm good. Mom—not so much, but I'm good."_

Jack sat up straighter instantly. "What's wrong with your mom?"

He shrugged back. _"She's a cop, dude. They're trying to get the PPE crap to stay safe out there, and they're running into roadblocks everywhere. The government tells them all to get this crap, but no one seemed to have done their homework because according to Mom, all she hears all day long from these medical supply companies are the words 'Allocation' and 'Unavailable.' It sucks, dude."_

"I'm sorry."

" _Not your fault. What about you, though? How's your dad handling this? Like, is he stripping down in the garage every time he comes back home like Mom is?"_

"Um, no. He hasn't left the house actually. Well, except for a supply run a few days back. My uncles have actually left the house more than he has."

" _They know we're on lockdown, right?"_

"Oh, trust me. They know. Uncle Sam is a super health freak actually. Any time they come back, they immediately take a shower and bag up their clothes. Not to mention, he's been the one keeping us up to date on all the news on it. It's sort of annoying Dad to death."

" _Rough, man. Hey, weren't they getting married or something soon? Your uncles?"_

"Yeah. This Saturday actually."

" _Wow. That is soon. Wait. How are you getting the tuxedos? I thought all the businesses were closed with that mandatory shutdown and stuff."_

"We're just supposed to wear our nice clothes. No tuxes. But it sounds like the whole thing is sort of in jeopardy." Jack sighed, catching Clark's confusion. "They closed city hall. And Uncle Sam's been trying to reach the justice of peace or whoever he had about Saturday, but so far nothing."

" _Yikes. Are they panicking yet?"_

"No. I wouldn't say that."

" _Seriously? Wow. That's . . . huh. Good for them."_

Jack laughed quietly and smiled. "They're not panicking because Uncle Sam said if he had to, he'd ask one of his judges back in New York to marry them over Zoom. Dad didn't like that idea, though, and left grumbling about it."

" _Yikes, and here I thought my family had drama. It's nothing like yours, man."_

"Yeah." Jack shrugged. "But I've got a better one than that actually."

" _Seriously? Well, come on then._ " Clark was practically salivating. _"What is it? Feed my llamas."_ He motioned to continue but got silence. _"Come on, man. Share already. I want to know."_

"Claire and I—" He licked his lips, pausing as he considered not going any further.

" _Wait. Whoa!"_ Clark instantly held up a hand, leaning back from his screen. " _Dude?! Your sister?! I mean, like, I know you're both adopted and all, but, dude, you and your sister?!"_

"No! No! It's not like that! At all!" Jack stumbled out his words, scrambling. Why did this always happen to him? "She and I are biological siblings. Well, half."

" _Okay. Huh?"_ Clark's brows rose into his hairline. _"Back up the train here. What?"_

Jack sighed heavily, realizing in that moment this was probably the larger reason for his reaching out to Clark. He needed to talk to someone about this. And Claire had locked herself in her room after finding out, and his roommate was the only other person he talked to regrettably. He needed to make more friends clearly, but Clark was his best friend after all. And hadn't failed him yet.

"Yeah. Our dads told us this morning how she and I blood related."

" _Shit."_ He whistled loudly, flicking his long hair back. _"Same bio mom or bio dad?"_

"Biological father."

" _Oh. Well, that stuff happens sometimes when there's a sperm donor involved. At least from what I hear. Not that I ever, you know, went to one or anything."_

Jack shook his head. "It's Dad, Clark."

" _Um, okay. Jacks, man, you've got two dads. You're going to have to specify which one you're talking about here. I don't know those nuisances that great yet."_

"Castiel."

" _Oh. Cool. That explains your stunning blues then. You get it from him."_

Jack stared back for a moment before he shook his head. "I suppose when you point it out like that, yes, we do share similar shades of blue."

" _Seriously? Not even a blip? I flirt with you and nothing? Wow. All right then."_ He exaggerated his sigh before the grin engulfed his entire face. _"Sorry, buddy. Had to for old time's sake at least."_

"I'm sorry."

His roommate waved away his apology, though. _"Nah. It's fine. Cards up, though, while we're spilling our guts and all, I missed you. I wanted to talk to you so many times. I just, you know, didn't know what to say. I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything."_

"I do consider you as a friend."

" _Then I'll do my damned best not to ruin our crazy wackadoodle friendship."_ Clark gave him a wide smile. _"Because I'd hate to lose you, Jacks. Honest. This past week was rough. In fact, it was so bad, dude, that I willingly sat with Mom one night and watched one of her stupid shows. Parents, dude, they watch some crazy shit sometimes."_

He laughed back with a beaming dorky grin. "Thank you, Clark."

" _Hey, no need to thank me. I'd be a shitty person if I wrote you off for something you can't control. Now, wouldn't I? I mean, I can't control being gay any more than you can control who you're attracted to. Plus, you know, contrary to Hollywood, guys can be friends with one another without wanting to bone one another. Just look at Casey and Severide. They're bros, best friends, and such."_

"Who?"

" _Oh, dude. We are so binging Chicago Fire when this is over."_ He then snapped his fingers. _"What about Archie and Jughead? Two bros with absolutely zero sexual tension between them but support each other and their girlfriends."_ When he noticed the blank stare, Clark's eyes widened. _"Seriously? Not even Riverdale? Dude, what the fuck do you watch?"_

"Mostly documentaries on Nat Geo and a few Westerns with Dad sometimes."

" _Okay, so, lame-o tv. Got it. Isn't your uncle like some huge director or something, though?"_

"Gabriel Novak, yeah. But I don't think he's a big-time director. More like B-level maybe?"

" _Wait. Did you say Novak?"_ Clark's mouth dropped. _"Jacks! Your uncle is_ _ **the**_ _Gabriel fucking Novak?! What the fuck, man! Are you serious?"_ He shook his head, making a head exploding motion. _"You have got to get me his autograph or something. I mean it. Like, whoa! And I'm not even talking about his porn work here. His other stuff, absolutely fucking phenomenal. He makes shit fun."_

"If you want, I could ask him to talk to you sometime?"

Jack couldn't believe he had found another person who knew his uncle's other work. His uncle's better work in his humble opinion in fact. All anyone usually wanted to talk about was the sex work.

" _That'd—I could for real kiss you right now. Like, yeah, hell yeah. If he's willing, I'd absolutely love to talk to him about his work. Dig real deep into his process and find out about his next stuff. I mean, fuck, Jack, that'd be amazing."_

"Cool. I'll ask him later then."

" _Man, how the hell did I get so damn lucky to be roommates with you? Wow."_

Jack laughed, shrugging. "Some would have said it wasn't luck."

" _Yeah, but those people are idiots, dude. You're cool. Honestly. I'm glad we're friends."_

Jack paused for a moment, glancing down.

" _What is it?"_

"Even though I'm not attracted to you when you admit you like me?"

" _Yeah. Course._ " Clark shrugged. _"Wait. Jack, dude, I mean, sure, I think you're pretty hot and all, but you told me you're not interested. I respect that. I mean it. So, if you just want to be friends, we'll be friends. Whatever you want, dude. You're worth it."_

"Even if—" He cut himself off quickly, turning away and silently berating himself over it.

" _Even if what?"_ Clark's eyes narrowed on him. _"Hey, talk to me. What's going on?"_

"How did you know?" He then swallowed and added quietly, "That you were gay I mean?"

" _Uh, okay, I don't know. When I tried hooking up with a girl because it's what I was supposed to do at my age, but didn't enjoy it, I guess. So then tried again. Then added in some hetero porn. Why?"_

"I feel different sometimes," Jack admitted quietly. "Like, take my uncle, for example. He's very open about his sexuality. In a way, my whole family is. However, when Uncle Gabe goes on about one of his pornos or my dads are making out, I just—I—"

" _Want to run from the room screaming? Cause I totally would get that. It's one thing when it's your peer hooking up. Totally different when it's family."_

"But that's not it," Jack argued, shaking his head. "Rom-com movies bore me. And the whole thing with Xander and his girlfriend. I still don't get it. They both complain about each other constantly. So, why are they together? I've really tried to figure it out but nothing. That can only mean there's something wrong with me. I mean, even Claire is dating someone. Me? I just want to read historical fiction or take a walk or play catch instead of make out or, you know, sleep with someone."

" _Dude, hey, listen._ " Clark gave him a gentle smile. _"Let me ask you something. And feel free to tell me to fuck off or something here, but have you ever wanted to bone anyone? Like, ever? Seen someone in a store or in a movie or read some character in a book and thought, 'Man, they're hot. I'd do them.' Anything like that?"_

"I thought maybe with you," he admitted quietly. "I do enjoy spending time with you. And that's something needed for sex, isn't it?"

" _Yeah, it helps, but it's not necessarily a huge 'I'm gay or whatever for you' flag either."_ Clark scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck and sighed.

"So, Ian was right." Jack's head hung further. "There is something messed up with me."

" _Fuck no! Jack, man, get that shit out of your head right now. There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. Ian's just a fucking asshole that's going to get his ass beat the next time I see him again."_

"Why?"

" _For putting that dumbass idea in your head,"_ Clark grumbled before he brushed back his long hair. His shoulders sagged a bit. _"Jack, listen. If you don't get the overwhelming urge to bone others or whatever, it's no big deal."_ He then heaved a loud exhale. _"Have you talked to your dads about this at all? Your uncles? Anyone other than me?"_ He nodded when Jack lowered his head more. _"Ah."_

At the _ah,_ the words expelled from Jack explosively, "I think I'm asexual!" he declared.

Clark instantly sighed heavily, his shoulder sagging. _"Oh, dude. Thank you! I didn't even know how to start that convo. I mean, all I know is from Tumblr and stuff, but yeah, I mean, sure, you could be ace. And that's perfectly valid and cool by the way,_ " he asserted. _"Anyone who says otherwise, well, they'll get my fist."_ He smiled disarmingly, albeit semi-awkwardly. _"So, you know, time to add your flag there too,"_ he said laughing. _"But if it turns out later you just need more of an emotional connection to feel attracted to someone, that's cool too. Aces come in all shades. Just like all the other kickass colors in the rainbow of sexuality. You could be demi, aromatic, or whatever. And that's cool."_

"How?" Because everything he had so far found himself, he wasn't sure it was considered cool.

" _Because aces prove that love doesn't need sex, dude, but could if the ace wants to either for their partner or have kids or whatever. Plus, it shows a person can have happy, healthy relationships without needing to bone too. And aces likely have deeper friendships and stuff than the rest of us sex-crazed horn dogs because attraction is out of the equation. More meaningful relationships, you know?"_ When Jack snorted, Clark continued, _"Like, think about it, okay? How much could I do if I weren't always trying to figure out how to be my usual Casanova smooth self? Right?"_

"You're ridiculous," Jack said, shaking his head as he tried to keep from smiling.

" _Yeah, probably,"_ Clark agreed, _"but it got a laugh out of you, so it was worth it."_

"What if I'm not asexual and just am confused?"

" _No shame in that. Plus, with all the stuff we're learning these days, I could find out I'm less gay than I thought and am actually bi or pan or something. I don't know. Sexuality is fluid, man. Probably having something to do with gaining experiences and the more you know and blah, blah whatever."_

Nodding, Jack thought on that for a moment. It made sense he supposed.

" _If you want, we could take a few of those quizzes together or something?"_ Clark suggested. _"I mean, I'm not sure how valid they are, but it might get us some good resources or something at the end. It's not like I have anywhere to be for the next—oh—however long we're stuck here."_

"I'd like that. Thank you." It was warming to know someone other than family was in his corner.

* * *

When she got the notification her package had delivered, Claire rushed out of her room to the front door. Finally! She had only been waiting since yesterday for the damned thing. She flew past her dad, accidentally bumping him with her shoulder and nearly knocking his coffee cup out of his hand.

"Claire!"

"Sorry, Dad!" she tossed over her shoulder, throwing the door wide open.

She paused at the sight of three large Amazon boxes on the porch. Three? There should have only been one. She then frowned. Oh. Right. There were other people living here. They must have ordered stuff too.

Bending down, she picked the three boxes up and carried them inside. She smiled gratefully when Uncle Gabriel grabbed one so it wasn't so awkward carrying them all in.

"Mail's here, Jack," she shouted, having caught one of the boxes addressed to her brother. She honestly was not going to mess around with this stupid half-brother business crap or whatever. He was her brother, and that was that. Damn anyone else who said differently. When he emerged from his room with a confused look, she held it out.

"But I didn't order anything."

"Well, it's got your name on it," she remarked, tossing the lightweight box towards him. She didn't even bother making sure he caught it before she ripped into her own box. It took digging through the stupid amount of crumpled up brown paper before she reached it. However, the second her fingers brushed over the suede, her face broke out into a wide smile.

"Whoa. Aren't you a little badass?" teased Uncle Gabriel, glancing at the elegant tall boots she held in her hands.

She glanced at him briefly before she rolled her eyes. "Thanks. Kaia picked them out for me."

"Well, your girlfriend's got great taste," he replied, tipping his head to her with a quick wink prior to turning away and heading towards the sofa. "SAM!"

"I'm literally right beside you, Gabe," he sighed, shaking his head and giving Claire a soft smile when their eyes met.

"Oh. So you are." The director leaned in for a quick kiss to the cheek. "I know you said not to get anything, but—"

"You got something," Uncle Sam cut in with a loud scoff. "Because of course you would." He crossed his arms and pinched his lips together. "At this point, I should just assume you'll say one thing but do another. Shouldn't I?"

Claire heard her dad's snicker, catching his green eyes dart to her when she raised a brow at him. He and Uncle Gabriel had been getting along so well. And with the wedding just two days now, they were in crunch time. There was no time for them returning to their asshole ways again. Not when everyone else was enjoying the truce.

Even she had made a sacrifice for the sake of the wedding. All feelings she had on the bombshell of her and Jack being actually Cas's legitimate children were pushed aside. There frankly just wasn't enough time to unpack all that before Saturday. So, she'd keep it all locked up. They could hash that out later. There'd be time then.

"You'll like it. I promise," declared Uncle Gabriel.

Claire bit the inside of her cheek to hold back her quip. Famous last words and all.

"Gabe," groaned back Uncle Sam.

"Sam, please. Trust me."

When the sophomore caught her dad's deep blue eyes narrow on the box, she turned to her other dad. It wasn't a good sign when Uncle Gabriel used the words 'Trust me.' They had all unfortunately learned that in quarantine.

"Fine," Uncle Sam relented. "Give it here." He grabbed the box a moment later.

Exactly two seconds later, everyone's eyes widened when a sea of shimmering speckles of vibrant colors exploded from the box and rained down like humidity on a swamp summer's day.

"Gabriel!" snarled her dad instantly, as he was held back by the pair of strong arms wrapped tightly around his midsection. "I'm going to murder you! I swear to fucking God!"

"This wasn't me!" cried back her uncle, caked completely in the thick golden glitter. "I swear! That's not what I ordered!" He rubbed the offending flecks from his face with a groan. "Honest, Dean!"

"And yet we're all covered in glitter! Fucking glitter, you asshole! Do you know how hard it is to get out of the damn—Cas, I swear I'm going to—your fucking—GAH!"

"Way to go, man," scoffed Claire, shaking her head as she glanced mournfully at her boots. The damn crap was never going to come out now. All because her uncle was a freakin' child. She'd find a lifehack somehow to get the damn glitter out. He was not going to ruin these boots.

"Hang on. There's a note here," mumbled Uncle Sam, drawing everyone's attention back to him. He frowned when Uncle Gabriel wiped away some of the stuck-on glitter from Sam's face. His hazel eyes soon after returned to the note. " _Sorry I can't . . ._ " Her uncle's voice trailed off for a moment before he cleared his throat harshly and scoffed with a shake of his head. " _—be there, boys. Hopefully this glitter bomb will suffice for my absence to your bonding. Love, 'Auntie' Rowena._ "

"Whoa!" Uncle Gabriel instantly grabbed the note. "It's from Red?"

"That's what it says."

"Who the hell is Rowena?" barked Claire's Dad, glancing from his brother to Uncle Gabriel.

"My publicist," Uncle Gabriel answered offhandedly. "She's an actual witch. Well, Wiccan, but she's fierce and lethal and goddamn feistier than hell, the exact combo I need sometimes for pressers." He then leaned towards the box, glancing inside it. "Ah-ha! There it is!"

"There _what_ is?"

"If it's more glitter, I'm finding this woman and ganking her," grumbled her dad.

Everyone's eyes then widened when Uncle Gabriel pulled out a tightly wrapped, thinly white material object from the box. He quickly undid the wrapping before a loud gasp punched the air.

"What?" Uncle Sam tilted his head to glance at whatever it was being unwrapped. His eyes then widened too a minute later. "Wow! I—Wow! I don't, um—okay then." He cleared his throat harshly again and covered his hand over Uncle Gabriel's. "Let's just, you know, put that back in the box. Shall we? No need to—no need."

"Oh, come on, Sammy, it can't be that— _Oh my god_! That's—holy fuck!" Claire's Dad shouted, covering his bright green eyes instantly as he scrambled back from whatever it was that they were all making such a fuss over.

Rolling her eyes at their ridiculousness over what seemed to be a gag piece of erotic art from what she could see, Claire glanced at her brother, finding him still staring down numbly at his box with that confused look of his.

"You know you're supposed to open it, right?" she retorted, saying nothing when Jack jumped in surprise. "So, go on. We already had Glitter-pocalypse 2020. Yours can't be much worse than that." She frowned when she caught his hesitation. "Jack?"

"I didn't order anything."

"Okay. Well, I'm pretty sure those two didn't order that either," she replied with a shrug. "Does yours have a name on the outside?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"It's from Clark."

"Isn't that your player roommate who is lovesick over you?"

He nodded slowly before he glanced back down at the Amazon box.

"Dude, come on. Just open it. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not what you're thinking. He seems like an okay guy." She then added with another shrug, "At least from what I saw at that party over on Elm couple weeks back."

"Party?" repeated her dad, his green eyes narrowing as he did his best strict dad impression.

She snorted. "Oh please. Come off it. I bet when you and Dad were our age you two went to lots of parties. So, you can stow your bullshit, old man."

"I'll have you know I—"

"—went to lots of parties growing up," piped up Uncle Sam with a wide shit-eating grin. "He'd sneak out and give Mom and Dad heart attacks some nights. More than a few times, Mom drug him home by his ear after busting the party."

She smiled proudly at seeing her dad's scowl at the revelation before she glanced at her secretly favorite dad. Well, not really. She loved them both. "Dad?" Blue eyes reluctantly met hers.

"Yes," he mumbled, "but only because of Gabriel."

"He's not lying." Her uncle shrugged nonchalantly. "I mean, it's not like I could leave Cassie in the apartment by himself. What sort of irresponsible guardian would I be if I did that?"

"Excuse me. What?" Her dad glanced at the quiet blue-eyed man beside him. "Are you saying your asshole brother took you to _frat parties_?"

When she saw the amber eyes dart far from the green, her smile widened. Oh, there was a story there. Most definitely. Even her dad's deep sapphires were far from the emerald now.

"Gabe?" murmured her uncle.

"Not exactly." Uncle Gabriel scratched at his beard that had become a bit scragglier since his arrival. "They weren't frat parties per se."

"If you say orgy—fair warning—I will be kicking your ass tonight, Strawberry Shortcake."

"Oh, come on!" huffed Uncle Gabriel, shaking his head frustratedly. "I didn't take him to sex parties either. We snuck into swanky Hollywood release parties. That's it. And before you jump down my throat about that, Winchester, I kept my eye on him the entire time." He pointed his finger at him. "And we were always home around eleven so he could finish his schoolwork. I may be a hot flaming mess mentally, but I wasn't a shit brother."

"Wait a minute. You went to release parties?"

"Uh, yeah? It's Hollywood. How else was I going to get noticed? Put an ad in the paper?" he scoffed again, glancing upwards in annoyance before he continued. "You have to go to those and chat up with sleaze network executives and others. But as I said, I didn't let Cas out of my sight. He was by my side the entire time we went to those parties. And if a comment got made, we moved onto the next person. Any other questions, Winchester? Maybe how we could afford to look our parts being broke and essentially homeless in the beginning? Because that shit was easy."

"Okay, you made your point, all right?"

"Obviously not."

Claire sighed heavily, meeting Uncle Sam's annoyed look with her own. Her dad and Uncle Gabriel were going to murder each other before the wedding. She had a feeling.

"Oh," Jack said unexpectedly from where he stood.

"Oh what?" their dad replied, as everyone turned towards her brother.

She was glad to see that he had finally opened his package. Her eyes narrowed when she noticed him unrolling slowly what seemed to be a flag of some kind. Her eyes widened as the flag revealed more colors. Not just one then. Her lips curled upwards when it finally clicked what the flag was. _Oh, Jack._

"He sent me my flag," murmured her brother quietly, his fingers lightly brushing over the soft material. His eyes then flicked up with pure happiness radiated in his eyes. "I'm going to hang it in my room." A moment later, he whirled around and headed off with a bounce in his step as everyone else stared after him in stunned silence.

"Good for the kid," declared Uncle Gabriel not long after, leaning back and looking perfectly relaxed out of all of them. "Being proud of who he is and owning it. Good for him."

Claire smiled widely nodding. Exactly. When she caught a shadow lurking in Jack's doorway shortly, she paused and waited for half a moment. Sure enough, her little brother stuck his head out and glanced down at them. He seemed at ease with himself, sure, but she could see a slight bit of tension in his shoulders too. Not that he had any reason to worry with them. They were a literal hodgepodge of the brilliant rainbow squad. But she knew how people were unfortunately. She had lost quite a few so-called friends after she started dating Kaia.

"You probably have questions. So do I really," Jack called out, slowly taking a step here or there down the hallway back to them. He seemed to be more skittish than ever been before, and yet he kept his head held up high with a sense of strength emanating inside. "But once I learned about this, I realized it fits me. Not fully, but I finally feel understood. And I know you can't understand that probably, but that's the way I feel. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't try to tell me it's just a phase or that I just need to be patient for the right person to come around or anything like that. This is who I am. Right now. So, you can either accept me or . . ." his voice cracked slightly before he tried again "or you can—"

She rushed to her brother's side a second later, pulling him into a fierce hug. "You're such a dork sometimes, I swear," she scoffed. "Of course we accept you, dumbass. You're my brother." She jerked her head towards their dads. "Their son." And she motioned to their uncles with her hand. "And their nephew. If there's one damn thing we've learned, it's that family doesn't turn its back on one another ever." She then lightly smacked him upside the head. "Dude, come on. What does Grandpa always say?" She imitated their surly grandfather then. " _Family don't end in blood. Doesn't start there either. Family cares about you."_ She paused, waving her hand before she said in her normal voice, "Yada-yada" and then switching back to their grandfather's again. _"They're there for you, good and bad, all of it."_ She then pulled back and leveled a Winchester-worthy look at her brother. _"And this is the most important one of all. They got your back even when it hurts. That's family._ " Her voice returned to normal again. "So you can take all this crap about us abandoning you and shove it where the sun don't shine, little nougat. Cause those guys behind me? They'd kill for us. For you."

"What she said," murmured their dad, as the rest of the family had all moved closer. "Come here. Family hug." Both young adults quickly found themselves enveloped in a fierce, loving hug a moment later. "Hey, asshole, what are you waiting for? A goddamn invitation? That means you too, Gabriel!" grumbled their dad when it was clear their uncle was going to hover awkwardly off to the side.

She and Jack both laughed quietly when they felt their uncle join a second later.

"All right. That's enough of that." Their dad pressed gentle kisses to the top of the kids' heads and stepped out of the embrace a moment later, his face still soft and so full of love. However, before the moment could continue any further, his phone vibrated loudly in his pocket, gaining his attention. He pulled his cell out a second later, glancing at it and immediately then putting it to his ear. "Special Agent Winchester speaking," he said gruffly, turning away and heading towards the office he had been using. "What do you have for me?"

"Well, I should go see how Kaia is. She wanted me to show her the boots when I got them," Claire announced a moment later, That wasn't the only reason she wanted to talk to her girlfriend, though, but the rest of the family didn't need to know that.

"Yeah, and I should see if I can get Judge Walker to answer the damn phone now," muttered Uncle Sam. "And if not, then I'm going to hunt him down."

"Not sure that's, um, something you should say, Sam-heart." Uncle Gabriel then cleared his throat and forced a smile when angry hazel eyes darted to him sharply. "Never mind. Shutting up."

Claire didn't wait any longer. She had seen this show too many times lately, and she was desperate for another channel than these two idiots. She ruffled her brother's hair lovingly as she walked past, though, and giggled when she heard his frustrated groan. Damn, he was easy sometimes.

Closing the door behind her after reaching her room, she sighed heavily and glanced at her laptop. A part of her dreaded her coming conversation with Kaia because she knew what the first words out of her girlfriend's mouth was going to be. 'How are you doing?' As if that needed to be asked at this point. So what if she learned that Castiel was actually her real dad? She had loved him and Dean and considered them her parents long ago. And yet . . . there was that intruding thought still right there, nagging at her incessantly.

She had talked to Kaia about some of it and then this morning to Doctor Tenent. But it hadn't necessarily helped as much as she had hoped it would. The stupid thought was still right there.

Sighing heavily, she walked over to her laptop and opened the app, calling Kaia. The second she saw her girlfriend's shy smile and beautifully warm eyes, something in her melted again. As it always did. It was as if nothing else in the entire world mattered but this gorgeous woman on her screen.

" _Hey."_

"Hey," Claire murmured back, her throat drying up instantly.

" _So, did they come?"_

"Yeah." She held the boots up briefly before she set them back inside the box and down onto the bed near her. "They got glitter bombed, though. So, I have to figure out how to get rid of that crap before the wedding now."

Laughing quietly, Kaia chewed at the corner of her bottom lip. _"How'd they get glitter bombed? Didn't they just get delivered?"_

"Wedding gift from some lady. Long story," Claire replied, waving her hand dramatically. "Tell me about you, though. More importantly, when are you going to be here Saturday?" The second she saw Kaia's face fall, she felt her own stomach drop.

" _I really want to be there. I do._ "

"But you can't." Story of her life. Sighing softly, she faked a smile and shrugged. "No worries. I get it." Something came up. Not the end of the world. And yet here she was, feeling absolutely wrecked by this news unfortunately.

" _Work has been an absolute beast, and more people are calling out every day. Everyone's just so damn worried about this Corona crap now. I begged Lisa. I did. She just wouldn't budge. She actually said 'Either you want this job or not.' And I need the money."_

"It's fine." Claire faked her smile more while inside she felt herself breaking down. "Next time."

" _Claire—"_

"I said it's fine. All right? Things come up. And we probably shouldn't meet with Corona out there and stuff. It's fine. I just thought it'd be a good time to introduce you to everyone properly. But, you know, whatever. Next time."

" _You're mad."_

"No. I'm not mad. I'm just—" Claire sighed heavily, brushing back her long curls. She recalled her earlier session again with Doctor Tenent, who pointed out how dangerous it was to hide one's truth from others and pretend. He had worked that entire session on ways she could use to communicate better and more openly to others. She still thought he was a quack, but she'd try it. After all, she didn't want to be one of those silly couples who kept everything so closely to their vests that they just fell apart. "I'm just disappointed, all right?" Claire admitted quietly. "I was all ready to walk beside you and go to them and say, "Hey. So, this is Kaia. She's literally an angel, and I love her. And if you hurt her, I'll kick your ass.' But, you know, whatever. It's not in the cards this time." When she caught Kaia's look, she blinked in confusion. "What? What did I say?"

" _You love me?"_

"What?" She blinked again, glancing back at her girlfriend.

" _You said, 'And I love her."_ Kaia's eyes were wide and full of hope.

"Uh, I mean, if that's, um, sure." She winced, glancing off to the side as she felt her face redden. Crap. Since when had this turned into one of those teenage drama shows? And yet she was glad she had finally said the words. She had been wanting to say them back ever since Kaia had said them to her a few months back.

" _You love me,"_ Kaia repeated, giggling as her eyes sparkled so radiantly that they practically glowed a pastel blue.

"Yeah, okay, I love you. Hardly a news flash here," Claire huffed, realizing how much like her dad she sounded like right then. What was it about those words that made it so hard to say?

Kaia laughed more, though, sending Claire's heart jumping in glee.

"Oh, will you stop already?"

" _No. Not until you say it again,"_ Kaia replied, grinning widely.

"Fine. I love you. Happy now?"

" _I suppose,_ " her girlfriend drawled, her laughter warm as an early August day in the Midwest.

Claire's insides were a gooey mess. When had she become the lovesick girlfriend here? But, damn, she really did love this beautiful soul on her screen. She couldn't wait until she could hold her again. She then laughed. Wow. She was almost as bad as her dads. Always needing to be in one another's orbit. Miserable when they weren't. Damn, love really sucked sometimes, but she wouldn't want it any other way unfortunately. Love was complicated and messy. Wasn't that what her dad always said? And, wow, was he right.

" _Hey, so did you ever tell your dad about the guy you saw the other day lurking about?"_

"No. But I haven't seen him since either, so it was probably just a coincidence. Plus, it wasn't like the guy seemed threatening or anything. He just was curious. Still not a crime."

" _Yeah, but definitely creepy, though. You have to admit."_

"Oh, definitely, but if I told Dad, he'd go into crisis mode and likely do something drastic like cancel the wedding. And Uncle Sam is already a second away from having an aneurism. I mean, sure, if I see the weird guy again, I'll tell Dad. But so far, I haven't."

" _Just promise you'll be safe, okay?"_

"Wait. Are you worried about me?" Claire asked with an astonished laugh. "Kaia, seriously, there's nothing to worry about here. It's not like there's some guy out there bent on hurting my family. I mean, if Dad was still active, then maybe, but he got pulled off active duty since the whole kidnapping crap a few years back." He promised as much to her and Jack once everything was settled again. And her dad didn't break promises ever.

" _I know, but I don't want anything to happen to you."_

"Nothing is going to happen. Other than Uncle Sam having a nervous breakdown. But we already survived Uncle Gabriel's, so we'll get past this one too," she quipped with a shrug before she glanced at the clock. "Anyway, I should let you get back to studying." Lunch would be soon.

" _Claire?"_

"Yeah?"

" _Will you send me a pic of you in your dress Saturday? Just so I can see what I'm missing."_

Claire laughed, feeling her eyes tear up. Fucking hell, she loved her. "Definitely." She felt a few traitorous tears leak and roll down her cheeks, swiping at them with a sniffle.

" _Are you crying? What's wrong?"_

"Nothing's wrong, you idiot," she said back, sniffling more. "They're happy tears."

Kaia's eyes widened as a smile quickly flooded her face. _"Oh. Well, don't scare me like that. I thought I upset you somehow. And I don't want to hurt you."_

"You couldn't." She then made up her mind, kissing her fingers and pressing them against her camera. She laughed quietly when she saw Kaia do the same. That was it. They were now that cheesy teen drama show she always made fun of. Now it was her favorite show. "See you Saturday."

* * *

A half-hour after the end of that Zoom, Dean was held up in his office still, reeling from the news he had just learned. How would he even begin? Where would he even start? How in the hell was he supposed to tell Gabriel that news? Tell Castiel?

Closing his eyes, Dean rested his elbows on the desk and held his head in his hands. Oh. There were no words really to say here. He knew he needed to tell them. He'd want to know if the roles were reversed, but the wedding was in two days. Two! And Cas—

Gabriel had enough on his plate with a panicking groom-to-be. He didn't need this on top of it. Dean would tell him after the wedding. It wasn't anything Gabriel needed to know right then after all. Though, he knew he'd need a damn good cover story for safety protocol Billie had initiated as a result of what had happened. After all, they still hadn't let the kids in on the danger yet.

The kids. Fuck. The secrets were just piling up these days. He exhaled loudly, forcing the air out with all the negativity around him. They would get past this. Somehow. They always did. And, sure, the kids would be pissed to learn that he had lied to them all those years ago about his active duty status. But they would get over it eventually. He had lied to protect them. They'd see that in the end.

Which left his husband. He had to tell Cas. But how?

When there was a quiet knock to the door followed by it squeaking open, Dean forced himself into a relaxed, easygoing stance. Turning around, though, he sighed in relief when he saw it was only Cas, who had plates of food in his hand. Someday he'd figure out how Cas always came when he called.

"Since you missed lunch," explained his husband, clearly trying to discern Dean's mood.

"Thanks." He pushed his files aside to clean off a spot. A moment later, he took the plates from Cas before his husband silently returned to the door and shut it behind him to give them privacy.

"What's wrong?"

"The world."

"Dean," replied Cas in his usual no-nonsense way.

Another heavy sigh punched out of him. "Someone attacked the safehouse today." He caught Cas's flinch and closed his eyes guiltily.

"Rios?"

"Is alive," Dean answered quietly. "Slightly shaken but alive."

"Good."

"Cas, Balthazar was injured, though."

"What?"

While Dean had his issues with the blond every now and then, less than his issues with Gabriel actually, he did like the guy somewhat. It was probably because of the undeniable loyalty Balthazar had for Cas and the fierceness whenever anyone was (joking or otherwise) attacking Cas. Not to mention, Balthazar had been the one who had kept the household calm when Dean had been taken by the cartel a few years back. The kids had all said that the blond had been a literal godsend.

"It sounds like he was tasked with protecting Rios. When the assailants attacked, he got clipped by one of their rounds. He's in the hospital. And according to someone talking to the Bureau, he's in critical condition but stabilizing."

"Was anyone else injured?"

"Some rookie named Alfie or something. That's not all, though." He paused for a moment. "Someone attacked your old boss when she was meeting with Billie today to go over the case."

"A coordinated attack," Cas declared, his mind clearly already strategizing.

"Seems like it. Benny was with them."

"And?"

"And he's a little bit pissed about being shot at, but he managed to keep them protected. Not that either of the ladies needed it. He said Billie and Naomi were freaking scary once they returned fire."

"Did they manage to apprehend the suspects?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"But they killed themselves, Cas, before they could be brought in." He caught his husband's jaw clench before the deep blues darted upwards in fury.

"Did Benny happen to say if he had a photo of these suspects by chance?"

"Um, I don't know. I didn't think to ask." Dean's eyes then narrowed. "Why?"

"If this is my brother's doing, then perhaps I can identify the suspects."

"Oh. Um. Give me a second." Dean dug his phone back out, popping a cherry tomato quickly into his mouth. He hit Benny's name a second later in his address book and listened to the dial tone.

" _Yeah?"_ growled his partner, seemingly still furious with himself as he answered.

"The suspects from earlier. Did you happen to get a pic of them before?"

" _Cas thinkin' he can ID them?"_

Dean held in his snort, knowing it'd only irritate Benny further. "Something like that."

" _Headed your way, brother."_ A woosh sound then echoed through the line as the photo was likely sent then. _"Crowley show himself yet?"_

"Not yet, but he's probably patrolling or something."

" _Dude better show himself soon or he's going to be getting his fancy suits secondhand soon. The ladies are out for blood right now."_

When Dean felt the quick vibrate against his face, he sighed, unable to say anything else. They weren't the only ones. He could see the righteous fury in those brilliant blues of his husband's. "Thanks, man." He then pulled the phone back and opened the message he received, holding it out to Cas. "Does he look familiar to you?"

Cas's eyes flittered about the photo on the screen for half a moment. His jaw then clenched before he inclined his head sharply.

"You do? Who is he?"

"That'd be Malachi Truman. He'd do things for my father occasionally."

"Was he close to Lucifer?"

"Not particularly from what I recall, but Malachi was definitely power hungry."

Dean nodded slowly before he swiped to the next photo. "What about this one? Know her?" He sighed when Cas shook his head. "Did you get that, Benny?"

" _Yep. I'll run the name now. See if we get anything."_

"Good. Let me know." Dean then pulled his phone back and disconnected. It was a start at least and damn better than nothing.

"We should tell Gabriel about Rios."

"Uh, yeah, I was—well, I was thinking on that, and maybe we shouldn't, you know?"

Cas's brows rose in disbelief. "Excuse me?"

"It's just your brother has a lot on his plate already with Sammy. We don't need to tell him right away. Rios is fine after all, thanks to Balthazar."

"So, I'm supposed to lie to him? Pretend that everything is perfectly fine? That our older brother isn't seemingly working through a kill list out for our blood as well?"

"I'm not saying that, Cas."

"That is precisely what you are saying, Dean," he growled back, glaring. "You are asking me to lie to my brother for the sake of a wedding that may very likely not even happen if Sam cannot find someone to officiate it."

"Hang on. Sam still hasn't gotten a hold of anyone yet?"

That took the wind out. "No. All of his contacts conveniently are not answering their phones."

"Shit." Dean sighed, running his fingers through his hair in thought. This wasn't good. "I suppose I could reach out to Ketch and ask him if he could do it."

"As in Arthur Ketch?" Cas repeated slowly and in a tone that sounded very much like he had just swallowed a bunch of lemons.

"Yeah. Why not?"

Dean couldn't see a single reason why Ketch shouldn't at least be asked. Dude could be professional. Most times. And the whole upper-class Kingsman thing he projected was just a symptom of his upbringing. Once a person got past his annoying ego, though, Ketch wasn't _that_ bad.

"Then call him and see if he's available. Perhaps we'll get a miracle yet." That was the plan.


	9. Pre-Wedding Jitters

A day before his brother's wedding, Cas rose early, sliding out from the covers silently before quickly heading to the door. He didn't bother glancing at the clock. Time didn't matter here. The sun was just peaking through the cracks of the curtain, and that told him all he needed to know. He slipped through the door and down the hallway, finding his older brother stretched out on the stupid sofa again.

Cas considered letting Gabriel sleep more, but the urge was getting stronger again. With his frown deepening, he paused at his brother's side and sighed.

"Gabriel?" he murmured, resisting just barely from shaking the sleeping man awake.

"Huh," groggily replied his brother a second later, an amber eye peeking open. "Cassie?" He groaned and stretched out lazily. "What's wrong?"

"We need to talk."

"Am I going to need booze for this talk?" joked his brother, covering a yawn a moment later as he reluctantly sat up.

"Please."

He was thankful when he saw the seriousness take over quickly in Gabriel. Cas pinched his lips tightly together before he motioned towards the patio. If his brother were going to react the way he believed, this conversation would be best outside then. He was grateful that Gabriel followed without question. He honestly wasn't sure what he'd say otherwise. Once they were sitting on the porch swing side by side, he swallowed back his nerves and drew in a breath before speaking again.

"There was an attack yesterday on the safehouse Rios was inside." Gabriel's face instantly crumpled before it became stoic again as his brother likely shoved everything deep inside protectively. "Andres is fine. Balthazar saw to it. He's mostly shaken up according to a source who told Benny who then told Dean. I thought you should know in case you'd like to reach out to him."

"Why?"

Cas frowned, tilting his head. "I don't understand."

"Why would you think I'd want to reach out to him, Cassie?" His brother scoffed, shaking his head. "He made it quite clear the other day how little I mean to him these days."

"I thought he made it clear how much you still do, Gabriel," Cas countered. "He was offering you advice so you and Sam can have a happy life together."

"As opposed to the flaming dumpster fire we'll have," remarked his older brother. "Gee. Thanks. So appreciated."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it, assbutt."

"Cas, come on. What Zoom were you watching that day? He literally called me a coward."

"No. What he said was that you should stop being that cowardly version of yourself and let Sam in. Which you've been doing for numerous years now."

"Whatever."

"Gabriel—"

"Is Balthy all right at least?"

"He was injured, but he's been stabilized from what Dean learned."

"Have you talked to him yet?"

"No."

His brother flew to his feet. His shoulders hunched up defensively, geared for a fight.

"Let me get this straight." His eyes flashed angrily. "You're asking me to talk to a man who obviously hates my guts while you're brushing off one who literally went through hell and back for you? Wow, Cassie. Is this how you treat all your friends?"

"You can stop with your projecting your anger, brother," he replied dryly.

"You're right. I am angry. I'm damned angry." Gabriel scoffed extremely irritated as he paced. "Where the hell do you and Winchester get off keeping shit like that from us?"

"He didn't want to ruin the wedding."

"Fuck the wedding!" his brother growled. "Damn it, Cas! Don't you see? Lucifer and his thugs went after Rios not long after I talked to him. Luci is trying to kill everyone we love. And the wedding? Fuck, if that's not the largest damn target on Sam's back right now!"

"You're scared for him."

"Of course I'm fucking scared for him, dumbass! I'm out of my damn mind. Terrified that I'm going to lose him! And all he can think about is who the hell is going to marry us, like all is well."

And suddenly everything snapped into place. He stared at his brother. "Have you—Gabriel, have you been sabotaging your own wedding?" When he caught the flash of guilt in the amber, Cas's eyes widened. "You've been causing the man you supposedly love—"

Gabriel pointed at him furiously. "Don't you dare say I don't love him!"

"—to panic needlessly all because you can't talk to him about your fears?" Cas snapped. "You assbutt!" Of all the foolish things—

"You don't understand—"

"What you're going through?" he growled, his voice dangerously low as he stood up from the swing to stare down at his older brother. "What it feels like to have fear grip you so tightly you can't breathe because you're half out of your mind worried to death that you're going to lose the man you love?" He loomed over him more. "Is that what you're going to say? Because if so, I'm going to kick your ass right here so help me. Because, perhaps you've forgotten, I know exactly what that feels like, brother! Considering Dean was held hostage for two weeks by a cartel!"

"This is Lucifer, Castiel! Not some cartel who just wants to earn a quick buck! This is our psycho brother! Or have you forgotten what he was like?"

"I cannot believe you." He flicked his wrist at him dismissively.

"Yeah, well, ditto there, little bro," Gabriel scoffed. "I mean, here I am, trying to protect the man I love, but, you know, whatever! That of course doesn't matter, does it?"

"Sam has been working himself to death to undo all the crap you've been doing, Gabriel!" He shook his head in horrified disbelief. "I should wake him up and tell him!"

"Fine. Go ahead. Go tell him. Be the fierce Winchester warrior you always are! See if I care."

"I cannot believe you. Of all the horrendous things you've done, this—this is the worst!"

"If it keeps Sam safe, then it's fucking worth it!"

"Sam is protected, Gabriel!"

"By who? By you?" He then threw out an arm towards the house. "By Dean-o?"

"And a dozen or so agents from the marshals and FBI as well. If Lucifer tries anything and goes after Sam, they will apprehend him long before any harm comes to Sam."

"Says you."

"Yes, says me," Cas shot back, seething inside.

"You can't promise that!"

"And you can't just decide to ruin your life over a what if, Gabriel!"

"Watch me!" his brother snarled, rising to his tiptoes. "This is the best thing I can do for Sam!"

"No. The best thing you could do for him is to talk to him! Tell him how worried you are about Lucifer! That you want to postpone the wedding until Lucifer is caught. You don't go out and then hijack your own wedding because of it! That's what a madman does!"

"I can't lose him!"

"And if you continue down this path that you see as being the right one, you will undoubtedly lose him forever! He has been working night and day desperately trying to find anyone to marry you two! Gabriel, do you understand that? Do you understand the pain you are causing him?"

"It's better than to feel the pain of him dying!"

Cas opened his mouth to snarl back his reply but stopped when he saw the confused and clearly exhausted man standing over his brother's shoulder. They must have woken Sam up. And likely half the neighborhood if he were honest.

"Hey, um, is everything okay out here, guys?" Sam asked, glancing hesitantly between them. His thumbs were hooked inside his pockets, giving off the fake impression of calmness.

"Everything's fine. We're just having a little . . . brotherly disagreement."

"Gabriel," Cas warned.

"Really?" Sam challenged, though, forcing a thin smile as he held the amber gaze. "Because it sounded honestly like it's a discussion you and I should be having, Gabe, not you and Cas."

The second Cas saw Gabriel's chin raise defiantly, Cas stepped forward, ready to slam his foot down hard on his brother's to keep the idiot from saying whatever stupid thing he'd say this time.

"Sam—"

"Cas," Sam interrupted, though, turning his head sharply from Gabriel. "Could you give us some privacy please?"

"Of course," Cas replied, bowing his head. He gave his older brother a quick warning look before he left them to it. It was after all a discussion between them without a doubt. He just prayed his brother didn't continue down his path of stupidity.

When he stepped inside the house, he caught Dean's eyes from across the living room. Frowning, he headed towards him and silently followed his husband into their bedroom. When Dean grabbed his hand and laced their fingers without warning, Cas blinked and glanced up at him in surprise.

"Was he honestly sabotaging their wedding because he was terrified that something would happen to Sam otherwise?"

"Yes, that seems to be the case unfortunately."

"Well, I guess we get to see if you're right then."

"Dean—"

"No, man. It's fine. All right. You're right. We should have told him yesterday about Rios. Let's just, you know, let them work things out themselves. There's literally nothing we can do for them."

"Would you have done this if it were you and me?"

"Put you through hell if I thought you were in danger, you mean?" When Cas nodded, Dean shrugged. "I'd like to say no, but I can't. I get where your brother's coming from. When you think you're never going to see the one person who keeps you going, when you think you're a danger to them, yeah, I mean. I get it. It's a shitty thing to do of course—what he did—but I get it. You do whatever it takes to protect them. No matter the cost."

Cas nodded slowly. Yes. He could understand it too. Didn't mean that he agreed with it, though.

"Let's go back to bed, angel. We can worry about it later."

* * *

Groaning loudly, Sam stretched out fully and ignored the loud pops from his stiff joints. He opened his eyes gradually, huffing when he saw the light peeking through his curtains. It was likely just after dawn based on the pinks and oranges peeking in. Turning his head, he glanced at the lump snoring loudly beside him. His lips cracked into a very small smile as he glanced at his sleeping fiancé.

He was still upset over learning Gabe was the reason everything had gone to hell at once. But in a way, he could understand all the shitty actions taken. Fear made people do stupid things since the dawn of man. His understanding didn't mean he necessarily forgave the asshole, though. But he could at least see why Gabe would do that. And the all-day talking session helped immensely. He wouldn't even mention the hot make-up sex they had last night either, but that was a definite Band-aid at best really.

Leaning forward, he brushed back a strand of Gabe's hair to the side. He had never noticed the wrinkles at the corners of his fiancé's eyes before. He kissed the laugh lines with a silent chuckle. Gabe instantly wrapped himself tighter around Sam in response. Oh, his loving amber-eyed octopus. What would he do without Gabe and his constant need to wrap himself up around Sam so tightly every night?

As time passed and Gabe showed no signs of waking, Sam's mind wandered. This should have been their wedding day. However, after striking out with every single East Coast judge he could think of and anyone else who could officiate over Zoom (not to mention city hall and all parks being closed in the area or his parents' flight being cancelled), he surrendered. They'd get married some other day then.

Hazel eyes darted to the closet where Sam's suit hung still. It sucked, but they'd get past it. And if it put Gabe at ease, then he'd concede. But he wouldn't be happy about it. He was certain Gabe had nothing to do with city hall and the local parks closing. Pretty certain at least, but the rest? All Gabe.

As more seconds ticked by on the clock, the more Sam found himself pondering their past. He was just in one of those kinds of moods it seemed. Smiling faintly, he curled up tighter into Gabe's embrace and sighed contently.

He could remember their first meeting like it was yesterday still. When their lives would be forever altered, thanks to chance.

* * *

_At the time, Sam had been so annoyed with his brother. Best men were supposed to have the privilege of planning the bachelor party. However, Dean clearly didn't trust him enough for that task because here they were at some ridiculous strip club downtown. From the second they first walked inside, Sam knew this night was going to go badly. All the strippers, all genders and walks of life it seemed, knew Dean personally and were all oh-so happy to celebrate his upcoming nuptials. More times than Sam could count, his brother had told him to loosen up that night._

" _Oh, stop pouting over there, princess, and enjoy yourself tonight, will you? Or do you want me to have a shitty wedding, Sammy?"_

_Without another word, Sam had whirled away from his half-drunk brother and headed for the restroom. He had bumped into some tall, dark-haired man at some point along the way, but the guy only had eyes for Dean. And what else was new there really? Sam had always been the one in the shadows._

_He had walked inside the bathroom beyond frustrated and angry at the world. When he'd marry, he wouldn't have his bachelor party in a goddamn strip joint. He'd do it in a bar and not get drunk to the point where he'd feel like shit during his wedding. He swore he would._

_The door swung angrily closed behind him._

" _Wow," whistled a man at the sinks washing his hands. Their eyes met in the mirror. The most soulful whiskey-colored pair of eyes Sam had ever seen before in his life stared back. "Tall, angry at the world, and all muscles?" The man forced a low laugh a second later when Sam didn't respond. "Yeah, I think you'd just about break me by the looks of it, handsome."_

" _Is that so?"_

_The man shrugged back, making a face of utter indifference. "Tell me, Sour Patch Kid. Is it true what they say?"_

" _About?" Sam tossed back with a scoff, oddly both intrigued and annoyed by this guy._

_The mysterious darkening eyes flicked down in the mirror before the man's smirk grew even cockier. "Well . . . you know." He shrugged aloofly before he pointedly darted his eyes from Sam's for a moment. "Something about the size of a man's feet and, well, his dick." Their eyes met again._

_Normally, right there was when Sam would have left. Put as much distance between this offensively dressed guy and himself as he could. However, for some reason, he didn't. Instead, he walked slowly towards Mr. Cockier than God himself, almost gliding across the room like magnets._

" _Well," Sam drawled, mirroring him in the obnoxious level of cockiness, "I've never gotten any complaints." He somehow was able to hold back his chuckle when he caught the man's amber eyes blow wide for half a second before the guy was able to regain control of himself again shortly after._

" _I bet you haven't," replied the guy, nodding appreciatively. His eyes then darted behind Sam for a moment before he turned around, revealing his 'Official breathalyzer test. Blow here' shirt. And, damn, if Sam didn't want to. "What do you say to working off that frustration of yours, Mr. July?"_

" _You offering?" His tongue darted out to lick his lips slowly as his eyes had darted down to notice the bulge in the man's pants. Holy fuck! Guy was built like a goddamn prize bull! He caught the amber disappear into the darkness again and moved even closer. The electricity between them was deadly, and the air was charged and thick with tension. The pull was stronger than tungsten itself._

" _Most definitely. Just tell me where you want me, moose, and I'm all yours."_

 _Sam's breath caught in the back of his throat. Where_ _he_ _wanted him? And,_ _moose_ _? Oh, fucking hell! He couldn't think anything past the man's dick right then. He wanted all of it right then. All!_

_The door squeaking open, however, decided for him._

" _Ah. There you are," Ketch announced cheerfully as he walked inside. "Your brother's looking for you." His eyes then glanced behind Sam, likely to the other occupant. "Hello there."_

" _Hello." Amber eyes lingered for a moment longer on Sam before he wiped his hands and walked past, close enough so Sam could smell something fruity wafting after him. "Goodbye," he murmured, his eyes never leaving Sam's as he spoke, before turning his head and leaving them._

" _Was I interrupting something, dear Samuel?" Ketch drawled the second the other man had left. "If so, many apologies. Perhaps next time lock the door, hmm?"_

" _Fuck off, Ketch," Sam huffed before he stormed out of the restroom, readjusting himself. Fuck!_

* * *

A quiet chuckle rumbled from his lips as he found himself back in the present. If Ketch hadn't interrupted, he wondered if he'd have thrown caution to the wind that night and locked that door. Nowadays, there wasn't a question about it. He would. Every single time. And had a few times over the years in fact. But then? He wasn't sure.

Gabe had ruined him without a doubt. Taken everything he had thought he knew about himself and jumbled it up like one of his morning smoothies. But for Sam, that was almost freeing in a way. Everything he had ever hid before, shoved deep within out of fear what anyone would think, the freaky parts of himself, it no longer needed to be back there. With Gabe, he had felt like he could do anything. Hell, Gabe proved time and time again how he'd be willing to try anything just once with Sam, explore whatever thing Sam wanted. For the first time in practically ever, Sam actually felt comfortable enough to be himself with someone else and not worry about the backlash. He could be Dark!Sam if he wanted. Gabe accepted him, good and bad, no questions asked. The only thing Gabe had ever asked of Sam was complete honesty. And other than a few secrets here and there, they had it.

When he felt a knee rub against him a second later, Sam groaned, closing his eyes as he inhaled sharply. When it happened a second time not so long afterwards, he bit his lip and glanced down. Oh, that was how Gabe was going to play it this morning? Two could play this game.

His eyes darted over the octopus version of his fiancé in an effort to find his spot of attack. Gabe had him fairly wrapped up rather well. Well then, he had just the right response to this. Five years of sex with Gabe gave him plenty of knowledge to draw off.

When the knee rubbed against him a third time, Sam let out a low growl before he rolled Gabe underneath him, chuckling when he heard the resulting gasp. He pressed his full weight down atop of his fiancé, inhaling deeply and feeling his body react to the look reflected up at him.

"Now, just what do you think you're doing this morning?"

Gabe drew in a slow breath, barely any of his beautiful amber soulful eyes showing.

"Me? You're the one who has me pinned to the bed looking down at me like I'm a piece of meat. I'm just the innocent—"

Sam chuckled deeply. "Innocent?" he remarked with a raised brow. "You have never been innocent a day in your life, asshole."

"Eh, guilty," he conceded, eyes twinkling mischievously. "So, what are you going to do about it, huh, Sam-moose?" He got his answer a second later.

Without any warning, Sam leaned all the way forward and slammed his mouth atop of Gabe's. At the same time, he released an arm before thrusting two fingers inside and quickly working at the already slightly stretched hole. When his fiancé jerked upwards in surprise, Sam rolled his hips and swallowed the cries of pleasure at the triple run. He repeated his action a few more times, chuckling against the plush lips as he felt Gabe writhe and shake underneath him, not doing much better himself honestly. When he felt the telltale signs Gabe was close, he unexpectedly pulled back with a sinful smirk worthy of the devil himself, keeping his fingers buried inside and their hard cocks pressed together.

"Sam," panted his fiancé, gasping and whimpering with each chest-heaving breath. His entire body glistened with beads of sweat, and his sandy hair stuck miserably to his face. Fuck, Sam loved seeing Gabe like this. The lust-filled eyes. The loud, almost gasping pants. The fingers curled around Sam's bicep clinging to him as if he were going to leave.

"What's the matter, Gabriel?" He added another finger, feeling the muscles contract tightly around them. "Huh?" He lowered his lips to Gabe's ear. "What do you need?"

"You. Always you" came the broken cry.

"Then go ahead. Beg me for it." He licked the shell of Gabe's ear before biting his lobe lightly. "Beg," he growled, pulling the skin back before releasing it. "Unless you're too prideful for it. Is that it? Are you too arrogant to beg for what you want? Hmm?"

"Please, Sam," Gabe pleaded, whimpering and writhing below. "Please."

"Hmm." He feigned considering this for a moment, allowing his fingers not otherwise occupied already to wander agonizingly against the heated, sweaty flesh. When he felt the sticky pre-cum leak more in between them, he chuckled darkly. "We should have been getting married today. We should have been waking up in separate beds, adhering to ridiculous Victorian era superstitions concerning couples-to-be on their wedding day, and been bundles of nerves the whole day. Mom and Dad should have been fussing over us. We should have been obsessed with wondering what the other was going to wear, how he was doing, daydreaming about how hard we were going to fuck one another tonight. Instead, we're here." His fingers then curled around Gabe's thick cock, squeezing firmly before he moved his hand up and down the length as his fingers deep inside Gabe's ass started to move in sync.

A choked whimper escaped the nearly sobbing man.

"Instead, though, we're here." He shrugged lightly, picking his pace up with his torture. "All because you had to go and sabotage our wedding/eloping/whatever it was instead of talking to me. Instead of treating me like your equal like we swore we would do all those years ago. Instead of trusting me. No. You chose for us instead, Gabe, without any thought to how it'd affect me. You were selfish. And you were wrong."

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'm sure you are _now_. But that doesn't mean you don't deserve this."

"Sam—"

He then released him and sat back, wiping both hands against Gabe's thighs. He'd give Gabe a few moments to recollect himself. He wasn't fully dark side yet.

"I didn't want to lose you," declared his fiancé several minutes later, slowly coming down from the lust clouds he had been on.

"And I understand that. I do." Sam gently placed his hand atop of Gabe's bare chest over his heart. "You are convinced Lucifer will come after me. However, you should have come to me first, Gabe. You should have talked with me."

"Would you have postponed it?"

"I don't know," Sam answered honestly with a shrug. "And we never will know now because you didn't give me that option. You took matters into your own hands and chose for us." He sighed sadly, tapping his hand against Gabe's chest. "But then again, I did the same damn thing, didn't I?" He caught the confusion. "I planned this elaborate surprise wedding without asking if you even wanted to get married so soon. If you are even ready to marry."

"I do. I am." Gabe went up onto his elbows to sit up. "If it weren't for my family crap, I'd have married you the day after asking, Sam."

"Glad to hear it."

"But Lucifer is out there," Gabe pointed out firmly. "And he's systematically destroying everything Cassie and I love. I can't just brush that aside and pretend that's not the case."

"I know." He sighed heavily. "It just sucks. Because I was so fucking ready to wake up as Sam Novak tomorrow."

His breath caught instantly. "You'd take my name?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

Gabe forced a laugh. "Honestly? Because the world needs more Winchesters in it than Novaks."

"The world already has more Winchesters than it can handle. Trust me." Sam smiled lightly and stared down. "And when we decide to have kids, Gabe, it'll still have a 50-50 shot of having my awesome Winchesterness in it. Don't you worry."

Sighing quietly, Gabe smiled softly. "We never did finish that conversation, did we?"

"No. We most certainly didn't." Sam chuckled quietly. Honestly. How was it that they could go from lust-driven and wanting to fuck like bunnies all day and all night to calm and utterly seriousness in a matter of moments? It was clearly a gift.

"All right. Well, so, who are you thinking should be our baby mama? Charlie?"

Sam paused for half a second before he shook his head. "No. I honestly didn't even think to consider her." Wow. He was an idiot. "No. You're right. She'd actually be perfect."

"Then who were you thinking?"

"Um, well, Eileen had offered actually."

"Eileen? As in your paralegal? Is that even, you know, legal?"

Snorting, Sam raised his brow. "Yes. And she offered, Gabe. I didn't ask her or make it based on her employment or anything like that. She's heard me talk about us wanting kids before with some of the other partners and offered."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. Seriously, you idiot."

"But that's a lot of treatments to ensure the pregnancy is viable, which isn't really even ever a guarantee really, and—I mean, I'll pay for whatever she needs of course—but she'd be willing to do this for us? Subject herself to all of it?"

"Well . . ." Sam's voice trailed off before he shrugged.

"What?"

"She wants to be a part of our kids' lives if it works out."

"As in, like, us co-parenting with her? Sharing our kids and such?" He didn't sound against it.

"Yeah. I mean, it would, after all, be her eggs and her body doing all the work really."

"No, yeah, I mean, you're right of course. But, um, wow. Eileen? Damn, Sam. I'm liking her more and more. Yeah. I mean, it's something to consider."

"Definitely." Sam then sighed. "The thing is, well, we'd have a shorter time frame with her, and Charlie for that matter, than if we chose some random egg donor at a clinic."

"Neither can be that old, though. They're, what, early thirties?"

"Yeah. But Eileen looked into it, and it'd be considered an advanced maternal pregnancy or something." He forced another unamused laugh. "Which, let me tell you, she did not like hearing at all."

"Wait." Gabe's brows knit together. "How . . . Did you and she already do this then? Am I going to get the ol' 'Surprise! It's a girl' gift as a wedding present then?"

"No. Nothing like that," Sam replied calmly. "She had offered to do it for some other couple, I guess, and they backed out when they learned she was deaf, thinking that it'd pass onto the baby."

"Fucking assholes."

"Exactly." He smiled back. "She likes kids, but she doesn't necessarily want to raise any right now. Mostly because with the hours and career path she's on, it'd be nearly impossible."

"And if we agreed to this, she wouldn't lose her job?"

"Well, she's _my_ paralegal. So, I get a say. But we'd have to be above board completely with this, considering the hierarchy here at play with the whole boss/employee thing. However, the partners seemed agreeable to it." He caught the look instantly. "Don't worry. I gave them a hypothetical."

"So, they could still say no."

"They could, but they already drew up, um, paperwork and signed it?"

Gabe stared at him, wide-eyed. "Sam."

"I didn't ask them to do it. Honest. But they did know we were going to get married, so, I guess, it's their wedding gift to us."

"You had the papers when you arrived here?"

"No. Eileen sent them a few days ago. With her signature. It just needs mine now. And yours is needed on the other document that's just for Eileen, you, and me that outlines parental rights and what sort of support we'll offer, etc."

"So, we sign these papers, and then we . . ."

"We start working on having our family, yeah. And we don't have to sign them right away. Eileen's aware of the circumstances around us right now. Plus, there's COVID to consider. So, the paperwork is good for a couple of years actually."

"Meaning that when Lucifer is finally dealt with, you and I . . . _seriously_?"

"Yeah." Sam smiled proudly. "Eileen thought of everything that could be an issue down the road, too, as did the rest of the partners before they signed. I was going to give them to you tonight."

"Could you call her?"

"Eileen?"

"Yeah."

Sam chuckled quietly, clearing his throat. "Um, Gabe, I hate to be the one to point this out, but we're currently naked. So not sure a video chat this early is a good idea, you know?"

"Yeah. You're right. Throw me a shirt when you're up then."

Rolling his eyes, Sam rolled off and moved to get out of bed. "Yes, dear," he mock saluted before turning away. When he felt a hard slap to his ass a second later, he whirled back. "Oh!" He caught Gabe's Trickster grin and scoffed. Leaping back, he chuckled when he heard the responding soft _oof_ as he jumped back on top of Gabe. "Now, you're going to get it, you little shit!" His tone was light and playful, his laughter deepening when he saw Gabe's happiness mirrored back.

"Sam!" Anything else he was going to say vanished with a gasp followed by a low groan.

Their mouths soon found each other again. And the world quickly faded away to them alone. Sam's fingers raked down through Gabe's scraggly beard, chuckling when he felt Gabe do the same with his growing scruff. They had joked last night how thankful they were that they weren't getting married today as it'd have been a pain to shave. Not that Gabe would have fully shaved his beard entirely off. Nor would Sam have wanted him to.

When Gabe sharply arched up unexpectedly, Sam paused, opening his eyes and pulling back. Did Gabe have another Charlie Horse? He had told his loving goof to add more magnesium to his diet.

"What's wrong?"

"I think I found the chip I lost from last night."

Sam burst out laughing instantly, burying his face into Gabe's shoulder. "You're absolutely ridiculous." He pressed gentle kisses to his skin. "But, damn, do I fucking love you."

"Awe. You love me?"

"Sometimes," Sam grinned, chuckling when Gabe slapped his arm lightly.

"It's okay. I love you sometimes too." He then paused before he added with a shrug, "Well, when you're not being a dick that is."

"Oh, fuck you, asshole!" Sam scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"That a threat or a promise?" His eyes were pure sunshine and warmth. "Never mind. Stupid question." He pulled Sam closer, his grinning turning more salacious. "It's a promise. Always."

"Not just a pretty face, are you?" Sam teased, throwing back one of Gabe's old lines.

"Nope. Sometimes I'm a dick too. Gotta keep my Sam-heart interested, you know?" He winked.

* * *

A few hours later, Gabriel woke up to a feeling they were being watched. He kept his head cradled under Sam's for a moment but glanced around the best he could without moving. His fiancé was still very much asleep so his fierce warrior moose was going to be no help here. It was up to him.

When he saw the shadow walk past the curtained window and then pause just outside, he inhaled sharply and went into action.

"Gabe?"

"Shh," he scolded harshly, his voice low so only Sam heard. He untangled himself and rolled to the edge of the bed, opening the top nightstand drawer in one swift move. He felt Sam's questioning touch to his back, but he ignored it, reaching inside the drawer and grabbing the gun hidden there. He cocked it a second later expertly, like a seasoned agent, and headed to the window. What he was going to do when he got there, he wasn't entirely certain, but fuck if he was going to let his psycho older brother get Sam today. He threw the curtain back a second later, pointing his gun at the kneeling, well-dressed man outside their window. "Howdy, dumbass!" His voice was ice cold as he glared at the man murderously. It wasn't his brother, but it didn't mean it wasn't one of his brother's demons either.

"And a warm hello to you as well, smartass," drawled back the Englishman, raising a brow before he glanced over Gabriel's shoulder. "Hello, Sam."

"No. No, you don't get to address him," Gabriel snarled, his jaw clenching as his finger minutely squeezed harder just barely holding back firing. "You—"

"Wait a second! Crowley?" Sam's hand went a second later to Gabriel's shoulder, the one raised as Gabriel kept his weapon pointed at the kneeling douchebag.

"You know him?"

"Yeah. He works with Dean."

Crowley tipped his head forward with an arrogant smirk. "See? Your fiancé can vouch for me. Now, if you could kindly lower your weapon before someone gets hurt."

Gabriel growled under his breath, hating this dick already. His arm, however, lowered slowly.

"So, you know Sam. _Congrat-fucking-lations,_ " he growled, feeling his temper flare up. He was wrong, and now whatever surprise he had was probably ruined when his brother did attack. "Doesn't explain why the hell you're outside our window like some Peeping Tom, Sir Douche."

"There's a boot print out here," Crowley explained calmly, pointing at an indent in the soil. "Looks to be a few days old actually. I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't notice that. Now, would I?"

"Thank you," Sam sighed over Gabriel's shoulder, his fingers curling tighter into Gabriel's bicep. "If you'll excuse us."

"Of course," he drawled with a smirk. "Be seeing you around, boys."

Gabriel snapped the curtain shut and brushed past to the nightstand again.

"Don't suppose we're going to talk about this at all, are we?"

"Nothing to say," Gabriel replied tersely, throwing the drawer open and setting his gun back inside before he closed it again. Goddamn it! He had been so sure it had been his brother!

"Oh, I can think of a lot to say. Like, for example, do you even have a conceal carry license?"

He glanced upwards and bit his tongue to keep from snapping. Several breaths later, Gabriel turned back and forced his smile. "Yes, Sam. I do. Would you like to see it?"

"Don't get pissy with me. You come out of nowhere with a freaking gun in our room. Not locked up like it should be, by the way, so either of the kids could have—"

"Well, I can't very well shove it in my ass, now can I?" he retorted dryly. "So, where else was I supposed to put it? Hmm? Under the pillow?"

"What would you have done if that was Lucifer?"

"Shot him," he answered. "Put him down like I should have a long damn time ago."

He caught Sam's surprise instantly and glanced away as a result. Maybe that was too much.

"He's your brother."

"Yeah, well, if it comes down between you or him, I'm going to save you every damn time. And I'm not going to apologize for that. Because you don't know the monster he is."

"You're right. I don't. But I don't want you to become one because of him either."

"I'm fine."

"Really?" Sam threw back. "Because you just did a damn good impression of James Bond."

Gabriel shrugged haphazardly. "Shaken not stirred, baby."

His fiancé was not at all amused. "Where did you get the gun?"

"Sam—"

"No. Answer me. Where did you get the gun?"

"A guy I know."

"Oh, well, that makes me feel better. _A guy you know_ ," Sam repeated sarcastically.

"It's perfectly legal. Above board. Registered in my name even."

"So, then, _what_ , you have about 8 or so hours under your belt and a license?"

Gabriel scoffed, flipping a hand at him. "Who the fuck do you think taught Cas how to shoot? The academy?"

"Wait. Are you saying that you—"

"LA is a rough town. And considering our family, why the hell wouldn't I?" He crossed his arms and held Sam's look. "I will not apologize for protecting the ones I love. Not then. Not now."

"Fine. Then, explain why you didn't see the need to tell me any of this."

Gabriel threw his arm out wildly. "Maybe to avoid this very fight. I don't know." He bent down and grabbed his boxers from the floor, throwing them on frustratedly. Why the hell was everything turning to shit now? They'd get to a good spot, and then BAM end up right back here again.

"You realize Dean and I have grown up around guns our whole life, right? That I'd have—"

"It doesn't matter."

"It does too matter! You're hiding shit, Gabe!"

"To protect you!" he shouted back. "Every fucking thing I do, everything I hide, is to protect you, Sam! Every damn thing!"

"I asked you for one thing. One. To keep talking with me."

"I'm talking to you now!"

"Only because I found out after the fact again. This time it's that you have a goddamn gun in our room! How you're planning to go all Deadpool on your brother's ass if you see him. Do you not see how you're letting your fear control you right now? That could've been one of the kids!"

"I can't—" his voice cracked before he cleared his throat harshly and tried again. "I can't lose you. It'll kill me, and Cas won't be able to pull me out of it this time. Do you get that?"

"I'm not asking you to pretend or brush aside your fears," Sam argued. "I'm asking you to talk with me. To let me in again. Because that just now? That was another side I've never seen before. And I've seen the protective side. That side just now, though? That was a man out for blood."

"Maybe it was." His stomach lurched when he saw Sam's visceral reaction. He held firm, though. He was doing what was right. That was all that mattered here. Sam would see that in the end.

"You don't mean that."

"The hell I don't. I will always do whatever it takes to keep you safe. Just as I would for Cas. For Dean. For the kids. That's just the kind of guy I am. So, my older brother wants to try to take you from me? Well, he can damn well try, but he's going to have to do it by prying you from my cold, dead hands. And that's a promise."

"Well, shit, man," a voice spoke up from the doorway. "And here I thought my vows were epic."

"Dean?" Sam's eyes widened as both he and Gabriel glanced at the eldest Winchester.

"Honestly, Sammy, put on some damn pants or something, will you? I do not need to see that," Dean remarked, turning his head to glance at Gabriel instead as Sam threw on clean boxers. "What do you two idiots say to getting married today?" He grinned widely, seemingly not reading the room at all.

When had Dean come in? And how had neither of them noticed?

Sam glanced at Gabriel before both men turned their attention back to Dean. _Huh?_

"I found someone willing to marry you two. Backyard is all decorated and shit. And I talked to Eileen who let your wedding singer dude know. So," he clapped his hands "let's get married, shall we?"

"Um, Dean, I-I don't think—thank you for doing all that, but—"

"Sammy," Dean sighed, his smile softening slightly. "This asshole will do whatever he thinks is best in keeping you safe. That's just who he is. And I think you know this. Should he tell you shit? Sure. Yeah. Probably. But he doesn't because a) he doesn't want to burden you and b) he's so damn used to being the big brother, the caretaker, that he doesn't know how to let people in, how to ask for help when he needs it. It's not in his arsenal. Hell, it ain't in mine either. And it was something I had to work through with Cas. I'm still working through it with him. So, and I mean this from the bottom of my heart, brother, stow your shit for a bit." He then paused and added. "Both of you actually. Forget crazy Lucifer. Forget this freaking fight even. Forget all of it. And just be the idiots in love you two usually are. Focus on that. Let us worry about Lucifer. It's our damn job after all. Got it?"

"Dean—"

"No, man," he sighed back. "Gabriel, dude, come on. I know what you're going to say here. I do. And I'm telling you, not asking by the way, _stow it_. Take all the shit rooting around in your head and shove it deep into the darkest corners of your mind. And choose to be fucking happy."

"How can I be happy with Sam in danger?"

"Easy. You do it because otherwise you're letting your brother fucking win, man. You're letting him get in your head and keeping you from your happily ever after ending. Now, I don't know about you, but if it were me, I'd say fuck it. Bastard ain't gonna rule me anymore. But, hey, ball is in your guys' court. I'm just saying that in about an hour from now, you could choose love over that shit."

"Wait. Why an hour?" Sam asked puzzled.

"Because that's how long it's going to take the wedding singer to get here. Plus, figured you two needed time to get dressed. Unless you're planning a nude wedding? Which, hey, whatever, man."

"Mom and Dad—"

"Are going to be there over Zoom. Kids are going to livestream it for them. Or whatever that fucking thing is called. They're going to make a room or something—I don't know—and share it. Eileen's going to be there. Balthazar is even going to be there, thanks to your old boss. It's going to be a hoot." Dean clapped again. "So, Gabriel, you grab whatever you need and head to my room. Sammy, you do your thing. Because you two dumbasses are getting married today. And that's final."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raise your hands if you're ready for the wedding! Also, what would we do with out Dean Winchester to save the day? Really... :)


	10. Cautionary Fairytale

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Congratulations. You made it to the end of this fic. :) Thank you, as always, for sticking with me. I truly appreciate all the kind comments and kudos and whatnot I've gotten on this. Now, this is a fairly long chapter, but I didn't want to break it up and make it eleven chapters. So-sorry!
> 
> Anyway, let's see. Um...I listened to a lot of Dick Jr. & the Volunteers writing this, soooo it was heavily influenced by it-as evidenced by the title and the last scene. I said it'd end happy-and it did. So, there. :P
> 
> Some have asked me privately if I'm willing to do a sequel/prequel to this fic regarding Cas and Dean-the thought has crossed my mind. And I may someday, but it's going to be a bit before I do because I have to write my Gabriel Big Bang fic, the last conclusion to my Night series, and a fluffy challenge fic. As always, thank you for reading. Until next fic. :)

Under the hot spray of the shower jets, Sam sighed heavily, his fingers running through his long hair and brushing it all back. His heart was about to leap up out of his throat and flee his body. Or at least that was what it felt like. And he couldn't get rid of the now permanent feel of wanting to vomit either as his stomach did yet another unexpected cartwheel.

He was getting married.

He was actually getting married.

Reaching out blindly, he pressed a hand flat against the wall and bowed his head as another wave of severe nausea rushed through him. He had felt like this ever since Dean had decided for them that the wedding was still going to happen today no matter what. All of this was just nerves. Stupid, silly nerves.

Chuckling tiredly, he groaned and let his head fall backwards to the feel the warm water cascading on his face. He wanted this. More than he had ever wanted anything before. Dean was right. Broken clocks and all that. Gabe was his happily ever after. Hence why he was such a nervous wreck.

This had been a long time coming.

There were mountains of crap he and Gabe needed to work through. And the waves of lies lately were crashing against them mercilessly, trying to rip them apart and take them out to sea. And yet he didn't want to waste another day. They had waited so long already. He was tired of waiting. Damn tired. He wanted it, the apple pie life his brother raved about for years now. He wanted it so damn bad.

A choked cry rose from him then. He pressed his lips against his white knuckles to muffle the noise just in case anyone was listening. Not that he thought anyone really was. They were all getting ready. In fact, before he had entered the guest bathroom for his shower, he had seen Dean heading outside with Cas following in the navy suit Dean had once admitted was the one he loved best.

After feeling like a freak for so long, feeling like he didn't belong, that everyone he ever loved would always die and leave him, that he was destined to be alone forever, he wouldn't be anymore. His apple pie was a spicy, bourbon-infused kind with sprinkles, Skittles, and Sour Patch Kids. More laughs rumbled from deep within, his body shaking from the force. And, hell, if that disgusting pie to everyone else wasn't just what he craved these days.

He had spent weeks planning this surprise wedding. Only to have Gabe tear it all down out of fear of losing Sam. It had taken Dean of all people to fix it again. It was mind-blowing to think of all that. Sam had been so focused on their wedding, trying to get every detail right and perfect. Now, he literally didn't know anything other than who the wedding singer was, what suit he himself was wearing, and it was at his brother's house. That was it. And it was . . . something. Something he didn't have time to really focus on, but he was glad that it was taken out of his hands. Now, he only had to focus on himself, his emotions, his well being.

Rubbing at his face, he felt the scruff of his growing beard against his hand. And again, he smiled. He had considered shaving it off yesterday when they had still thought the wedding was on. But it was a two-week old beard, and he was getting used to it finally. It itched like hell, sure, but he secretly found himself liking it. Plus, he knew there was no way Gabe was shaving his off fully. And if he did for some strange reason, then Sam was going to mourn for weeks.

He grabbed his shampoo from the ledge beside him, pouring a generous amount into his hand. He had a spent enough time stuck in his own head for the time being. He needed to focus, or Dean would be dragging him out by his ear to the backyard.

He scrubbed at his long hair, from roots to tips, and repeated it a few more times obsessively. Ducking his head back under the warm stream a few moments later, he felt the thick foam rush down his long frame. He repeated this ritual with the conditioner he knew that made his hair extra fluffy and silky smooth. It had a bit of a fruity smell mixed with sandalwood to it, so he only used this one on special occasions. And he knew it drove Gabe insane.

Once he had washed all that out, he moved on to washing the rest of his body, scrubbing with a washcloth. His mind wandered again, recalling all the times before when Gabe had murmured soft praises against his skin and showered him in lewd comments of what he'd do to Sam later. He startled himself back to the present with a chuckle. No need to think about that right now. He'd see Gabe soon enough. As the warm water washed away all the grime and dirt (and all the remnants from their earlier lovemaking), he swallowed as his nerves reasserted themselves and reminded him of their presence.

His hand slammed down onto the shower knob, shutting off the water a moment later. And he bent forward again, drawing in a few deep breaths prior to standing tall again and stepping out onto the bathmat. He could do this. It was a piece of cake. He could so get through this without vomiting. He could. Right? He just needed to breathe. He toweled off, focusing on that and his breathing.

It was stupid. Utterly fucking ridiculous. He hated it but realized that his nerves were just a physical response to how badly he wanted this. When he heard a soft beep from his phone on the edge of the counter, he glanced at it and finished wrapping his hair into the towel before flipping his head back as he stood up. He wrapped another towel to cover his lower half and reached for his phone. The second he brought it up and saw Gabe's smiling face with the notification, he smiled widely. With a swipe up on his screen, he glanced at the message. It was nothing but emojis of eggplants, handcuffs, and confetti. He then chuckled when a photo popped up a moment later of a steamed-up mirror with the words 'Still want to be tied to this ol' dick forever?' marked on it.

Hazel eyes glanced up at the mirror in front of him, grinning widely when he saw how steamed up it was. Excellent. He set his phone back down and quickly finger-painted his answer into the fog. He snatched his phone, snapped the photo, and sent it back, snickering before he shut his phone off. He set to dressing quickly, realizing he had spent too much time in the shower. He could only imagine what sort of conniption fit his brother would have over his being late to his own wedding.

Ten minutes later, hair dried and styled just the way he wanted and fluffier than a damn bunny, he glanced at himself in the mirror, readjusting his navy-with-golden-hearts tie again. He still had a good fifteen minutes before he had to be outside, but he couldn't stand being in there any longer.

He cracked the door open slightly and glanced out. When he caught Jack walking down the hallway tugging on his shirt sleeves of his suit jacket, he smiled and whispered his nephew's name.

Soft baby blues darted up like a deer in headlights.

"Where's Gabe?" Sam asked.

"In Dads' room still."

"Okay . . . where are your dads?"

"In their room with Uncle Gabriel." When Sam's eyes narrowed in confusion, Jack added, "He fainted, I guess, according to Dad. I don't know." He then hastily said, "But he declared the wedding is still most definitely happening. He's perfectly fine. Just got overheated."

Sam laughed, nodding. Yeah. Overheated. Sure. That was the reason. "Where's your sister?"

"In her room panicking." He shrugged. "Supposedly, Kaia said she wanted to see Claire's dress the other day and now isn't answering, so Claire's pacing in there, thinking the sky is falling over it." He held up a hand, cutting Sam off. "Don't worry, though, Uncle Sam. I've got this."

He inclined his head towards his nephew. "Understood."

"I like your rings by the way," Jack stated a moment later. "I know I'm probably not supposed to look at them, just hold onto them until they're ready for them to hold, but I thought they were nice."

Sam smiled before he headed across the hallway, clapping a hand on his nephew's left shoulder. Jack looked good in his suit, taking after his dads. "It's fine. You can look at them. We don't mind."

"What does the writing say inside it, though? It was in a funny language."

Unable to keep the blush from his face, Sam glanced down. "Sorry, Jack. That's, uh, private."

"All right. Well, I should go see how Claire's doing."

Sam nodded and stepped aside, watching him leave. When the doorbell rang a moment later, he headed towards the front door. He waved Dean away when his brother stepped out into the hallway.

"I got it," he announced, thankful that his brother didn't argue. Answering the door was probably just the distraction Sam needed at this point.

He unlocked the door a second later and opened it, finding a bearded man about Gabe's height wearing an elegant face mask with the initials 'CS' written in ivory. He glanced down with a frown at the black-and-white suit-wearing man with a guitar case beside him. It took a second longer before it clicked that this was his wedding singer. He blamed the face mask and black thick framed glasses.

"Oh! Hi! Come in!" Sam stepped aside to let him in. He winced when he realized he wasn't wearing a mask. Idiot. It was too late now unfortunately. "You found the place all right?"

"Oh, yes. Thank your assistant for the directions, Sam," replied the shorter man warmly. "She made this easier than I had thought it'd be."

"I'm glad. Um, here. Let me show you where everything's happening." He turned away and headed towards the patio doors that led to the backyard. When he didn't hear the man following, he turned back and found the guy staring at a family photo of Dean, Cas, and the kids hanging on the wall. "That's my brother, brother-in-law, and their children," Sam explained quietly. It was a few years old.

"They're a very beautiful family."

"Yeah. I'll tell them you said that." He then motioned for the guy to follow, which happened this time thankfully. When they stepped outside, Sam's eyes widened, taking in all the white fairy lights strung up from tree to tree guiding down a makeshift aisle to a simple rustic wooden arch that had been shoved into two wooden barrels to keep it upright. Flower bouquets of something Sam couldn't readily identify were placed in the upper left corner and another in the middle of the right supporting beam with two more flower baskets on top of the barrels to hide where the beams came into it. It was . . . he had no words for how beautiful it was. Dean must have been up all the night working on this.

"Looks amazing. You're a very lucky man."

Sam chuckled, nodding. "Yeah. I am. Um, do you need anything? Water? A beer maybe?"

The jolly man laughed back, shaking his head. "No, Sam. I'm good. Thank you, though."

"All right. Well, you can put your guitar wherever you'd like while you wait. I have to get back inside or my brother's going to have a fit." He turned away, pausing a step later when he heard a noise that strangely sounded like something dropping from a tree behind him.

"Get the hell away from Sam. _Now!_ "

Sam whirled back around at the new voice, his eyes widening in horror.

His wedding singer chuckled lightly, clearly unfazed by the newcomer that Sam was shocked to see was the same man from Radio Shed who had sold him Gabe's phone more than a week ago. "Lucifer! Son!" His singer chuckled harder. "I was wondering where you were hiding yourself."

A gun fired a second later.

* * *

Forty minutes earlier, Gabriel found himself in the large main bathroom, leaning against the sink counter and drawing in slow, steady breaths after cleaning up his beard. His head was bent forward with his eyes closed. His heart raced, thumping wildly as the vacant shower ran behind him. His mind swam with dizzying thoughts. More than a few times, he found himself wondering if the world itself was spinning or if it was all just in his head. He needed to calm down. He knew that. But there were only so many times he could recite the damn US capitals or count back from a hundred that he could do. Neither strategy was working. In fact, he could have sworn it was making things worse because he was so focused on not screwing that up that his anxiety-ridden and intruding thoughts became even worse.

Grabbing his phone from the edge where he had set it, he quickly searched for the number in his recent contacts. He needed Sam. Sam would work his magic and distract him, and everything would be good again. The second he found the number, he tapped it and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself in any way he could think as he waited for Sam to pick up.

" _Gabriel?"_

His head snapped up in surprise when someone other than his fiancé picked up. His eyes darted to his phone noticing the familiar dark-haired woman on his screen.

"Eileen?" he gasped.

Well, that definitely snapped him out of his spiral. He panted heavily, blinking in confusion. Hadn't he called Sam? Why had it gone to her? He then noticed the words 'Sam's work' at the top of his screen. Well, shit! That explained that at least.

" _Should I call Sam?"_ she asked kindly, staring back at him with wide, concerned eyes.

He shook his head, though. "No. No I'll be fine." _Eventually._ He winced when he felt his head lowering out of shame, realizing how stupid that action was a minute later and quickly forcing his head back up so she could continue to see his lips to read them. "Just had a pre-wedding panic moment and thought I called Sam but called you instead. Sorry."

She smiled warmly, her eyes lighting up in the gentle light of the office. _"Your secret is safe with me."_ She mimed zipping her lips up and throwing away a key.

He chuckled back, feeling his heart start to recover slowly again. She deserved more than what she earned at that lousy law firm she and Sam worked at. So much more.

Needing the distraction like a glass of mezcal, he admitted, "Sam told me about your offer."

Her eyes narrowed briefly as she stared back. _"Offer?"_

"To be our future baby mama."

" _Ah."_ She laughed and shrugged flippantly. _"Considering the money I've already spent on it, why waste the hormones already injected, you know?"_

He nodded slowly. "You're an amazing woman, Eileen. I hope you know that."

" _You're just realizing this now?"_ she sassily replied, smirking. _"Maybe if you'd come up from Sam every now and then, you'd know that already."_

Chuckling loudly, he batted his hand towards the screen. "Oh, whatever."

" _You know I'm right."_

"Possibly."

" _Most definitely,"_ she smiled widely. _"This will be $500 by the way."_

"What?" His head tilted as his brows furrowed. "What's $500?"

" _This conversation,"_ she deadpanned. _"It's my hourly retainer fee."_

Gabriel half-choked and half-laughed. "What?! No. Sorry, Duchess Sass-a-lot. You're going to have to talk to my sexy lawyer about that."

She crossed her arms and leaned back. _"I'm sorry, Mr. Novak. He's currently unavailable today, and he's given me explicit orders not to disturb him under any circumstances."_

"Is that so?"

She nodded firmly. _"Yes. He's getting married to some Hollywood hotshot director."_

He snorted, shaking his head. "Dude sounds like a dick already."

" _Oh, I know. I told him as much."_ She shrugged flippantly. _"However, he was quite adamant and laid out his case."_ Her lips twitched in amusement as she tried to continue her teasing. _"The jury had no choice then but to give him a mandatory life sentence without parole."_

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "You lawyers and your fancy jargon. Nerds. All of you."

Her eyes lit up with pure joy. _"Careful. You're marrying one soon enough."_

"Oh, I know. Clearly I can now successfully plead insanity later."

" _Well, you could have,"_ she replied glibly. _"However, with your statement, you've now—"_

"Oh, okay there, Judge Leahy. All right. I get it," he interrupted, shaking his head when he heard her snickering. "If you'll forgive me, though . . ."

She laughed warmly. _"Go get your prince, Sir Gabriel."_

"Prince? No. He's no prince. He's a fucking king." He smiled back one last time and then ended the call with a soft wave, feeling loads calmer than in days. She was one of the good ones.

The more he thought on it, the more he realized Dean was right. If Gabriel worried about _what ifs_ , he'd miss out on so much. His older brother had always been out there somewhere. And it was only recently Gabriel had started to fixate on that truth.

He needed Sam like a flower needed water and sun. Sam was his reason to stand and bask in the rare warmth of the cruel world he had grown up in. Well, fuck that shit of letting fear win. He was going to get his happily ever after with his king, and Hell was just going to have to wait its turn for once.

He stripped off his boxers and stepped out of them, glancing briefly at his good shirt and pants hanging on the back of the door. He had no doubt Sam was going to be wearing a suit, jacket and all. And, damn, if that wasn't going to get him hard. Sam was always so damn fuckable in a suit. Shaking his head, he turned away and stepped inside the shower. He'd look like a slob compared no doubt.

The second he felt the cascading heat from the rainfall shower head, he closed his eyes and inhaled the steam deeply. All his worries evaporated away as he felt himself relax and give in. He knew he didn't have time to waste, having talked to Eileen for a good ten minutes. So, he quickly set to work.

His fingers massaged his scalp with the lavender mint complex Sam had claimed would be perfect for him years ago. Not that Gabriel necessarily cared that much. Hair was hair to him honestly. And as long as his waves weren't ratty or too unruly, he didn't care. But for Sam and his never-ending quest to help everyone have luscious locks like his, Gabriel used these silly $40 bottles of shampoo and conditioner. And he'd admit, he did smell rather nice after using them. They weren't too overpowering. And if he happened to recall times when Sam swept his fingers through the long waves, giving each one its own special attention while the two shared a shower, well, that was entirely beside the point.

He stuck his head under the shower head a second later, letting out a loud groan. It wasn't nearly as good as his shower back in LA, but it was a close second. He chuckled as his groan echoed against the walls. Poor Dean-o was probably hiding himself outside to escape, but, damn, this shower was nice.

He skipped the conditioner, feeling how silky smooth his hair already was with just that damned $40 shampoo. _Honestly_. And it was a wonder where his money went? $40 shampoo—what he did for love. Snorting, he grabbed the bar of soap beside him. Here in the palm of his hands was more of his money, thanks to Sam: Cedarwood and clove with a splash of whiskey.

The first time using it, he had noticed people all around the set sniffing him like crazy and later walking away with dazed looks. He decided right then and there that this soap would only be used for special occasions. Like, when one was getting married. It was, in fact, his third time ever using it.

His second time had been the night he had proposed, which his use had totally been accidental. However, the moment he glanced at Sam that night (having wanted to ask if they should leave early), everything just went Topsy-turvy. Like an out of body experience, he saw himself holding out the blue Ring Pop, his breath catching as his heart stopped, lost in Sam's eyes. It felt right. Like all the pieces he had been snapping into place over his life had finally finished the puzzle of his heart.

"I'm getting married today." He chuckled, shaking his head slowly as he rubbed the bar of soap over his skin. "Holy fuck. I'm actually getting married." Full-on belly laughs erupted from him then. He was downright giddy almost. "Not so much a coward and destined loner after all, am I, Dad?" He rinsed off once he had soaped up everywhere, inhaling the rich, manly scents. He didn't smell half bad. The water turned off a moment later, and he quickly stepped out and toweled off.

When his eyes caught the fogged-over mirror, he chuckled deeply. Oh . . . it was too good to pass up really. One of those ridiculous moments in a movie. And yet he couldn't just not do it. Who would he be if he didn't? So, once he was mostly dry and half-dressed, having used that entire time to think up his message, he smeared his words onto the mirror a few minutes later. He grinned when he finished, quickly snapping a photo and sending it and the emoji-laced message to Sam.

Turning away, he finished buttoning up his white dress shirt. If he had known he was getting married during lock down, he'd have chosen better clothes than this. In fact, he only had these ones because he was so used to having dress clothes on trips that he packed them without a thought.

When he heard his phone, he glanced at it, catching Sam's bubble floating about his screen. A second later, he brought up the reply and nearly dropped his phone as a result.

The photo reply was simply the words 'My ass is rather partial to your ol' dick, so . . . 😉' with below it a crude drawing of two dicks hanging from wedding bells—actually on second thought, Gabriel was pretty sure they were balls.

He stepped back from the sink, slipping as he did and tumbling backwards. When he slammed back against the door, he yelped and then groaned, rubbing at the back of his head.

"Dude, you good?" Dean yelled through the closed door.

"Other than going to hell for corrupting your brother," Gabriel muttered under his breath, slowly pushing himself up to his feet. "Yeah. I'm good," he called back before he fell back with a groan. Maybe he wasn't good on second thought. He closed his eyes and let out another low pained noise.

When the door opened a moment later, forcing him to move over or get hit, he grimaced more, rubbing his sore head.

"What the hell!" Dean shouted the second he likely saw Gabriel's bare feet. "Cas, get in here!" Bright green eyes then found Gabriel sprawled out. It took Dean a few tries but eventually he was able to squeeze through the cracked door and kneel in front of Gabriel. "What happened?" He gingerly reached out, frowning when Gabriel leaned back instinctively.

"Nothing. I just, uh, got a little overheated," he lied. When Dean grabbed a hold of him a second later and lifted him up to his feet, he stifled a gasp, closing his eyes. Damn, his head hurt.

"That's it. Cas, tell Sam—"

"No!" Gabriel snapped, his fingers clamping down hard on Dean's forearm. "No! I'm marrying him, Dean. Come hell or high water. I'm marrying your brother today! Understand me? I am marrying that gorgeous, Thor-like moose today."

"Dude, you passed out!"

"Doesn't matter. I'm fine," he argued, shaking his head and pointedly ignoring the slight ache he felt in the back of his neck at that action. He was going to marry Sam, and he'd fight heaven and hell to do it if he had to honestly.

When his brother's deep sapphire eyes met his after Cas had walked in, he glanced away guiltily, keeping his eyes far from the stupid mirror that had set off this whole chain of misfortune events.

"Dad?"

Gabriel just barely held in his groan at the sound of his nephew's voice. _Great. More people._

"Everything's fine, Jack. Your uncle just got a little overheated and passed out."

"Is he all right?" his nephew called out. Damn kiddo had his dads' good hearts.

"Yeah. He's good. Just make sure Uncle Sammy knows wedding's still on, all right?"

"Got it."

Dean's head then turned, unfortunately towards the mirror. Green eyes widened to saucers before he whirled back with a murderous glare. He took a threatening step towards Gabriel.

"And don't worry about Claire," Jack called out innocently, having no clue he just saved his uncle from certain death. "I'll handle her too, Dad. Love you."

"Claire?" Dean whirled back towards his bedroom, seemingly forgetting all about Gabriel. "What the hell did he mean by that?" He glanced at Cas. "What's wrong with Claire?"

"Kaia asked to see a photo of her in her dress before the wedding since she can't make it today. However, Claire hasn't received a reply since she sent the photo."

"Wait."

Gabriel glanced at Dean, realizing with relief that his brother-in-law was still talking to Cas, not him. Whew! At least the attention was off him for once.

"How do you know this?"

"Because when I went to check on her," Cas replied with a deep frown, "she told me and then promptly kicked me out, claiming I couldn't understand what she was going through."

"Poor kid," Gabriel muttered, eyes widening when he heard himself. _Oh, crap!_

"Poor kid?" Dean repeated growling, glancing back at the groom-to-be with a pointed look. He then inhaled sharply before he spoke again. "Look, man. I get it. I've been there. The whole blitzed out, happy jitters time before a wedding, but you have to learn boundaries. Like, for real here. I mean, how would you like it if I fucked your brother directly in front of you, dude?"

"Well," he replied, shrugging, "you sort of eye fuck every chance you get, so . . ."

The doorbell ringing saved him from the no doubt snarled reply that was to come.

When Dean stepped out in the hallway soon after, leaving the two brothers alone, Cas and Gabriel glanced at one another awkwardly. Without a word, his youngest brother wrapped an arm around his waist, helping him to one of the bedroom chairs.

"I understand," Cas quietly murmured after a moment of silence. He smiled faintly when amber eyes darted upwards in surprise. "Dean and I snuck out before our wedding, claiming how we needed space. In reality, though, we just needed to see each other. To have a moment that was just ours."

Gabriel half-laughed. "I sort of fucked up your wedding that day, didn't I?"

"On the contrary," Cas countered with a shrug, "you may have actually helped it by being otherwise distracted." When he caught the confusion, he explained. "If you had been at my side, attending to my every need, I likely would have hit you for fussing over me. Or Dean would have."

The older Novak chuckled before he went to his feet and pulled Cas in for a hug. He said nothing when Cas instinctively tensed, only waited for the eventual slackening. "In case I haven't said it enough, Cassie, I'm glad we're brothers. And I'm glad you found your other half—even if he is a smartass."

A moment or two later, Gabriel sighed when he caught Dean silently step back into the room.

"How's the head?" grunted his brother-in-law, glancing between the brothers with a deep frown.

"Fine. Doesn't even hurt," he answered. He then sighed at the look of obvious disbelief. "Okay. A little sore, but I'm fine. Really. I know who I am. That I'm in Kansas and not Oz. I'm fine. Honest."

"All right. But if it gets worse or you start to feel nauseated or anything—"

"Trust me. Not going to puke on your brother." Amber eyes then narrowed when he caught the outline on Dean's hip. "Expecting trouble?" he clarified, jerking his head at the now holstered gun.

"More like a deterrent for you, asshole," his brother-in-law drawled with a forced thin smirk.

"Hilarious. But I'm serious." He caught Dean's pained look and felt his mood instantly sour. "Something happened, didn't it?" What mind fuckery shit happened _this_ time? "What is it, Dean?"

Dean's lips pinched together before he said, "They caught your brother earlier at the hospital."

"Lucifer?" That'd be the best wedding present ever. Seriously. But it didn't make sense.

"No. Raphael."

Gabriel felt a chill run down his spine, his hand unconsciously moving to his side. "I'm sorry. I think I misheard you. Did you say _Raphael_? As in murderous bastard in Leavenworth serving— _Dean_?"

"He escaped."

"No shit! I figured that for myself, dumbass!" he seethed. "You knew?" he growled at Cas.

"Yes," replied his brother quietly, blue eyes lowering guiltily.

"Awesome." Gabriel stroked his beard with a cold scoff. "That's just fucking _awesome_!"

The doorbell ringing again drew their attention away.

Needing to feel useful and walk off his growing irritation, he went to answer the door, deciding if he saw Sam on his wedding day so be it. As if that would be the worst thing to happen now. He stepped into the hallway, turning to the door but stopped when he heard a familiar voice in the backyard.

"I was wondering where you were hiding yourself," laughed the jovial blast from his past.

Gabriel's head snapped towards the voice. _Sam!_

He rushed towards the backyard, his heart in his throat. _No!_ Sam unfortunately stood between Gabriel and his older brother Lucifer and his deadbeat dad. As he caught Luci's hand raise, he felt it all instinctively slip back into place as if it had never left: all the training, all the darkness, all of it return.

The gun fired a second later.

* * *

The second Lucifer dropped down out of the tree he had been hiding in, he lifted his chin up defiantly and glared coldly. It had been decades since he had come face to face with the bastard that had fathered him. He could recall their last meeting vividly. The crack of his sister's head against his father's desk's edge still echoed in his head at night most nights, along with the piercing indictment on how it was all Lucifer's fault for startling her in the first place.

He knew better now.

Stepping forward with his head high, Lucifer stared back with eyes rivaling his father's that day.

"Get the hell away from Sam. _Now!_ " he snarled, his eyes flashing in pure fury.

He would not stand idly by this time. He would fight and end this once and for all. Only then would he be truly free of his father. Free to be with his beautiful Chloe. Free to live in contentment.

He raised a hand up, ready to strike. Vaguely, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sam whirl around in surprise. He brushed it off and kept his eyes trained on his father, however, knowing just how deadly and destructive the man truly was.

Too many people had been fooled over the years. Too many people had been destroyed. Too many people had believed the lies and the oh-so-innocent act Chuck Shurley had perfected for so long.

Lucifer knew the truth, though.

Gabriel knew the truth.

Castiel knew the truth.

And soon the world would know it too. They would know all about Chuck Shurley: infamous best-selling horror author by night/murderous monster by day.

He heard his father's amused chuckles and forced his emotions down even further inside. He could not miss. For if one were battling a snake like his father, the root of all evil, one had to make damn sure then he struck and cut off its head.

"Lucifer! Son!" his father called out. "I was wondering where you were hiding yourself."

A gun fired a second later.

* * *

Chuck watched his future son-in-law's retreating form silently with a faint smile. He could see why Gavriel was so enamored. Sam was the kindest, gentlest souls he'd ever met. And yet there was a fight, a darkness even. Yes, Sam was exactly the person Chuck wanted for a son-in-law.

It would take time to break Sam of course. Just as it would with Dean no doubt. But Chuck knew it could be done. The Winchesters may have been rumored to be a force to be reckoned with, but that only made it sweeter in his experience when they'd eventually break. He'd be merciful, though. He wasn't a monster. For if he were, Dean never would've been rescued all those years ago. Did anyone know the truth of his interference? He supposed not. The scene had been staged too well.

At the sound of a loud thump behind him, Chuck whirled around, taken by rare surprise.

"Get the hell away from Sam. _Now!_ "

Chuck stared back, merely chuckling in response. His stormy blue eyes sparkled in glee at the sight of his wayward son. Here he thought he'd only bring Gavriel and Cassiel back. Never had he dreamed in a million eons of the prospect of collecting his rumored most favored of all too.

"Lucifer! Son!" Relief shone brightly. "I was wondering where you were hiding yourself."

Oh, this made so much sense. Of course! Of course Lucifer would've come here! Oh, his boys! His foolish boys! It had been too long. So long since they had all been together. Since they had been a family instead of the fractured house of horrors they were nowadays.

When he heard the patio door open shrilly a second later, he whirled back towards it. His eyes widened at the approaching man from inside the house.

_Gavriel._

All at once, he recalled the horror-filled whiskey eyes staring back numbly the night before his son ran. Now, he could see the results of that ill-fated day. What came out of that horror and fears.

Where once was his sweet little boy, afraid to embrace his true self, now stood the man, born from the pain inflicted upon him by his loving father.

The gun fired a second later.

* * *

The jarring sound of a gun firing exploded a moment of complete silence.

The world held itself still, refusing to turn.

Everyone in the backyard stood stunned.

And then noises burst free, causing the world to turn once more.

First, the birds flapped wildly, fleeing the area in terror.

Then, the dogs off in the distance howled and barked their outrage.

Next came the low pained groan.

"You shot me?" Lucifer's hand slapped hard against his bleeding shoulder, as he applied firm pressure. "What the hell! I'm on your goddamn side, you imbecile!"

Gabriel stared back blankly, though, his gun still pointed in Lucifer's direction. He had only clipped Lucifer's shoulder, leaving behind a flesh wound. Hardly the worst he could have done.

"Now, Gavriel, was that really necessary?" Chuck chided with a quiet chuckle. "He wasn't going to harm me. Lucifer knows what'll happen if he does. Don't you?"

"If you so much as—" Lucifer growled, his voice cutting out sharply.

Chuck tsked, though, shaking his head. "Really now. What have I told you about saying things like that?" He then glanced back towards his other son. "You finally did it. You finally accepted who you are. I am so—Gavriel, I am so—" He forced another laugh. "When they told me about the accident, I couldn't believe it. Not you. Not my boy." He stepped towards his son, stopping when the gun moved in his direction. A flicker of irritation flashed across his face before Chuck blinked it back. He couldn't be upset over his son's reaction. It was instinctive, protective even. The lion he knew his son would always be if given the chance was before him in control. He'd be a fool if he didn't recognize it.

Another voice then added its presence. "Hands in the air!"

Frowning, Chuck glanced at the opened patio door. He snorted, his lip twitching slightly.

"Hello, Dean," he calmly said, leaning back as he folded his arms across his chest.

"You good?" Dean asked, pointedly ignoring Chuck.

Gabriel ignored the question, though. "Can't say I remember inviting either of you assholes to my wedding. Guess I should've figured you'd try crashing it." The humor was far from his dry voice.

"You think I'd have missed this?" Chuck questioned, trying to meet his son's gaze but failing as the amber eyes stayed far from his. "Gavriel—"

"His name is _Gabriel_ now," Sam cut in sharply, stepping up beside his fiancé. "Gabriel Novak."

Chuck's eye twitched at the show of blatant disrespect. He'd give his future son-in-law a pass this time. Sam didn't know any better. He'd learn, though. Both Winchesters would learn in the end.

" _Gabriel_ ," Chuck corrected, inclining his head slowly. He'd play nice then. For now. "You're getting married, my sweet boy. I missed Dean and Cassiel's—"

"Yeah, he goes by Castiel now, you stupid son of a bitch!" Dean interrupted, earning himself a Chuck eye twitch as well.

"Of course. Of course. I'm sorry. –and _Castiel's_ wedding. I wasn't going to miss yours, though." Chuck gave his favored child a soft, proud paternal look. "Now, you've had your fun. All of you." He glanced towards Cassiel and Lucifer. "But it's time to come home, guys. Your family needs you."

"Yeah, I'm good, _Dad,_ " Gabriel spat back. "Got all the family I need these days. Thanks."

"They're not your blood!" His patience was whittling away with these rebellious boys of his.

His son shrugged back dismissively. "No. They're not. But they're more family than you and the rest of the jackholes ever were."

"Gavriel!" bellowed Chuck, his last strand snapped in half. "Do not disrespect me like this! You are my son, my blood, my heir!" His eyes flashed furiously as his voice growled, "You will obey me!"

Soulful whiskey eyes lit up in sheer dark amusement, though. "Fuck. You!"

Wrathful blues glared back murderously before Chuck took a step towards his foolish child. When his son-in-law fired a warning shot near him, he sneered back. If that was how he wanted to play.

"Is that how you repay me, Dean?" Chuck raised a brow. "Really? After what I did for you?"

"Repay you?" he tossed back in utter disgust. "Repay you for _what_ , dumbass? For abusing your sons? For making their lives hell? For being a sperm donor? What? What the fuck did you do for me?"

Chuck lifted his chin haughtily, his sneer growing even nastier. "I'm the reason you're not still tied up to that chair in that rundown house bleeding like a stuck pig. I'm the one who got you released from the cartel. _Me!_ Not your precious FBI and all their resources. Me, Dean." When he caught the blink of surprise, he chuckled darkly. "Don't feel too bad, though. Michael said when he plucked you out, you were half-dead already, mumbling Cas's name the entire time."

"You?" Dean stared back, completely in shock, which was mirrored by Castiel and Sam as well.

"Me," Chuck repeated smugly. He then glanced at his boys. "You boys didn't honestly think that once I found out, I wouldn't keep tabs on you, did you? I have always done everything to protect you. To give you the best chances to achieve your true potentials. I'd have thought you realized that by now."

"You attacked Chloe!"

"To keep you in line, Lucifer," Chuck hissed back, glaring at his bratty child. "If you had just played your part like I asked, she'd have been fine. But, no, you had to grow a conscience all of a sudden. You had to pretend you're a good man." Chuck huffed a dark snort. "Tell me. How are the nightmares? Still hear your sister dying as you watched?"

"Because you made me watch her die!" roared Lucifer, taking a threatening step towards his father. He only stopped when a hand went to his chest.

"You caused her death, Lucifer! Not me! What purpose would I have had for her death? No, I loved her. Anna would have been a great addition to our family. She'd have done so much for our cause. If only you would have quit twisting her mind and telling her those ridiculous stories of yours."

" _Ridiculous_? You killed her best friend, Dad! You slaughtered that entire family and covered it up. I bet everyone back in Pontiac still thinks the Talbots are all on a fishing trip, don't they?"

"I never laid a hand on that family!"

"No. That's the thing. You didn't have to, Dad. You only had to snap your fingers, and all your yes men were oh so happy to please you. And if they didn't, they were never to be seen again. You forget. You raised us, ol' man, to be sinners and killers. Well, here we are. Together again."

"Yes. Here you are," Chuck replied quietly, staring at his second eldest. He then snapped his fingers, amused when he noticed at least one of his boys flinched. So, at least one wouldn't need too much retraining again.

Gabriel and Cas quickly moved in front of Sam and Dean respectively in obvious protective stances. Lucifer's eyes narrowed on the newcomers.

"Michael."

"Lucifer," replied the tall, lean, muscular, pale green-eyed man as he stepped from out behind the side of the house. He was flanked by two other men and two ladies.

"Luci, it's not what you—" murmured one of the men quietly, raising his hand placatingly.

"If you finish that ridiculous lie, Amenadiel, I will kick your ass," growled Lucifer before glancing back at his father.

"Naomi?" Cas whispered, though, when his former boss stepped up beside Chuck.

"Hello, Castiel," she replied with a faint smile, lightly placing a hand on Chuck in a loving way.

"Y-you—"

"Yes." She nodded. "I know what you're thinking. But he didn't brainwash me or any of that. What your father is trying to accomplish—"

"He's trying to murder the world for his damned stories!"

"No, Castiel. He isn't. Your father is merely trying to fix a broken world. I know what he did to you. What he did to all of you," she admitted, glancing at the estranged Shurley sons. "However, he had to, gentleman. I mean, just look at yourselves now. The leader. The lover. The fierce warrior. The defender. He did that. He made all of you into the strong soldiers you are now. Don't you see that?"

"Where's Crowley?" Dean barked, still holding his gun pointed in their direction regardless of the fact they were grossly outnumbered.

"Unconscious in the basement. He'll be fine once the sedative wears off," she answered calmly. "I made sure no harm came to him."

"And the rest of the team?"

"Subdued," Michael replied flatly.

"But don't worry. They'll be fine as well," Amenadiel stated, holding out a hand. "Father asked us not to harm any of them."

"Except for Andres the other day at the safe house, you mean," Gabriel remarked dryly, glaring at his older brother.

"He disrespected you," Chuck explained with a huff of disbelief, meeting the angry amber. "I wasn't going to stand for it. So, he had to learn a lesson. Be made an example to others."

"And Billie? Where's she?"

"Not your problem, Dean," Chuck stated with a flippant shrug. His entire personality then shifted away from the cold, unfeeling father to complete softness and warmth. "Hello, kids."

Jack and Claire hovered in the doorway of the house with matching confused looks.

"And you must be Kaia," Chuck grinned when he noticed the nicely dressed young woman standing behind Claire. "You're very beautiful, and I've heard such wonderful things about you."

"Who are—Dad?" Both Jack and Claire turned towards Dean and Cas.

"Stay inside the house, kids. It's all right," Dean replied firmly, his glare leveled on Chuck.

"How can you follow him?" Gabriel demanded of his brothers, pointedly ignoring Hannah and Naomi. "After what he did to us? How can you still follow him?"

"Because Naomi's right," Amenadiel remarked. "Everything Father has done, it's for the good of mankind. He needed to prepare us for the harsh realities of life. Who are we to question—"

"He's a monster, Amenadiel," Lucifer stated coldly. "Open your eyes. He will do whatever it takes to win, to continue his blood lust, to play out his perfect story."

"It's not blood— _wow_!" Chuck scoffed, shaking his head. "I mean, wow! I knew you resented me, but to say that? I-I'm utterly flabbergasted. I honestly have no words right now."

"Good. It'll make this easier then," another voice joined in.

" _You_?" Chuck growled as Billie then walked out from where Michael had earlier. "How did you get out?" He glanced at his eldest who didn't react in the slightest at this setback.

"Me? Eh." She shrugged lightly. "You clearly didn't do your homework." She smiled haughtily. "My dad was a Navy Commander. He'd have been ashamed if I didn't know how to slip out of ropes."

Chuck sneered and shook his head in disgust. "Well, odds still are in my favor, so, you know." He waved his hand dismissively. "Now, come on, boys," he addressed his rebellious children. "Let's go home. Before I get really, really mad. And you really don't want that, do you?"

"You know, _Daddio_ , I've had a long time to think on your words from that night," Gabriel admitted, lifting his head up with a blank look. "How you sat me down in your study. Told me how I was being a coward for not wanting to choose between Cas and Anna. How the answer was obvious. How if I kept on my path, I'd be weak, pathetic, alone, unloved, etc."

Chuck's brow raised but he said nothing.

"You wanted a lion? You wanted me to be a leader? To be _you_ , Dad?"

"Yes," Chuck stated, nodding. "That's all I've ever wanted. For you to take your rightful place. To be who you were meant to be, Gavriel! The others never understood what needed to be done. They didn't understand what we do. That people deserve to be punished for their actions. That pain teaches lessons the best out of everything. That actions have consequences. If there are no lessons—"

"—then there is no pain. And if there is no pain, how will one ever know true happiness?" Gabriel recited neutrally, his eyes blank and heartless.

"Exactly! You remember!" Chuck laughed happily, ignoring the others. "I was worried you wouldn't. That you had shed that part of you to embrace this new persona." When Sam's hand gently reached out towards his son, Chuck felt a brief spark of wrathful fury rise, but he pushed it down again. "I won't punish you for running. I promise. I know now you needed it. You needed to be on your own two feet. I was holding you back. It's clear now. But you learned. I can see it in your eyes. You know the truth, Gavriel. You know I'm right."

"I do," his son replied flatly.

"Then come back. Sam is yours. He's untouchable. So are Dean and the kids. And Chloe too, Lucifer. You can all have your pets. I don't care. If that's what you need to come home, then fine. I'll accept it. They can come as well. Honestly, it'll make it easier later on in the next installment."

His favorite seemed to consider the words for a moment before a quiet, amused chuckle erupted.

"Gavriel?" Chuck took a step towards his son, moving out of Naomi's reach.

"You see, there's just a tiny flaw here, though."

"Oh? What's that?" he asked, unexpectedly feeling uneasy at the statement. There couldn't be.

His son's eyes lit up happily. Pure sunshine radiated out of the soulful whiskey that held Chuck's icy, cold blues.

"Gavriel?" he repeated quietly, his mind racing to figure out what he was missing here.

A second later, a fist slammed hard against Chuck's face, sending him sprawling backwards onto the ground with a cry of surprise. He slammed hard onto the ground with the wind knocked out of him.

Naomi gasped in surprise, glancing down at Chuck with wide eyes.

Michael instantly pointed his gun at her then, staring at her taciturnly.

Amenadiel grabbed a hold of Hannah in turn to keep her from escaping, glancing back at his brother who stared down at their father a second later with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

Castiel pointed his weapon at Uriel, who looked on disdainfully.

"Long live the king," Gabriel stated brusquely, his lips twitching into a dark grin as he kept his weapon trained on his shocked father.

"Wha—I don't understand," Chuck stuttered, glancing up at his son.

How was this possible?

"Chuck Shurley, you are under arrest for the murders of—frankly too many people to list right now," Billie remarked dryly, nodding to Michael who yanked a stunned Chuck to his feet. She slapped her handcuffs onto Chuck's wrists a moment later.

A few minutes later, more agents rushed into the backyard with their weapons drawn, quickly taking control of the scene and rounding up Naomi and Hannah, whom Michael and Amenadiel had respectively taken into custody already. Another agent bagged and tagged Gabriel's gun, handing him a slip of paper with the number of the local office. The ladies with Chuck and Uriel were then escorted away soon after without further incident, leaving them alone again in the backyard.

"What the hell just happened?" Sam asked, glancing from Gabriel to Billie to his brother.

"Dude, did you just _Lion King_ your dad?" Dean interrupted, though, laughing loudly. "Fuck!"

"Gabe, seriously, what the hell just fucking happened here?" Sam repeated, glancing over at Amenadiel and Michael suspiciously.

"I apologize for ruining your wedding day, gentlemen," Billie stated with a gentle smile as she stepped forward to take charge. "Michael reached out earlier with this plan, and I approved it."

Dean inhaled sharply.

"Wait. You knew Naomi was involved that day, didn't you?" Dean asked with a scoff. "You dangled me in front of her. It's why you didn't dress me down for not following orders."

"Yes," she admitted. "My first meeting with her she was very curious about you for some reason. I thought it was over the fact that you had wounded Castiel years ago, but something just felt off. So, naturally, I dug a little and learned of her trips to Pontiac the past few years. I didn't realize she was involved with Chuck until Michael approached me."

Sam carried it on from there. "So you two were—"

"Playing our parts so to speak, yes," Amenadiel replied with a kind smile. He then glanced at Lucifer. "I was sorry to hear about Chloe."

"Not sorry enough to tell me about this idiot plan of yours, though, clearly," Lucifer shot back huffily, wincing as he applied more pressure against his bleeding shoulder. His eyes darted to Michael then. "And you . . ."

"Sorry to disappoint you yet again, but still not the dick you believe me to be," Michael replied with a half-shrug.

"You used us as bait," Sam declared.

"Yes. We did."

"However, you were protected every step of the way, Sam," Billie claimed. "I assure you."

Dean placed a placating hand on his brother's arm. He tapped his thumb gently against him, giving Sam a pointed look.

"I regret any anxiety you may have had after learning you had spoken with me," Lucifer stated apologetically. "I didn't mean to unsettle you, Sam. I merely wished to speak with you just once. To make sure you were . . . worthy of my foolish brother."

"And?"

"You are. Undeniably. However, I saw your actions in the backyard before you left and found myself curious as to what you were really up to. Growing up as we did, I was naturally suspicious of everyone who comes into our lives. We've been conditioned that way. But I also knew enough to trust my brother and his instincts, and it was clear he cared for you greatly. So with Gabriel and I both believing harm coming to you, but with a bit of skepticism on my part in case I was wrong, I could only do what I thought was right and protect you as well. As I've protected him secretly over the years."

"What?" Gabriel's head turned to his older brother. "What do you mean 'protected me?"

"Do you honestly think I was in LA by chance?" Lucifer replied with a raised brow, nodding grateful when he grabbed the offered towel. "I wasn't. I was there because I learned you were. Which I assure you—learning your brother directed your favorite pornography was an eye-opening experience."

There were a few quiet laughs.

"And then when I arrived in LA and saw you pick Castiel up from school, all I could think then was how Dad would discover how you were both alive and ruin your newfound happiness. So, I covered your tracks. I became showy, making sure Dad only focused on me, his rebellious son who lived to piss him off. And it worked brilliantly. That was until your proposal went viral."

"Father lashed out once he had learned Lucifer was the one hiding you. He had us comb through the records, discovering about Castiel as well."

"Amenadiel and I were able to keep him from coming sooner," Michael admitted. "However, once he learned of the wedding, Dad was like a dog with a bone, rabid and desperate. I reached out to Billie as soon as I could then, alerting her to his plans."

"But aren't you all, like, bad guys or something?" Claire asked as the kids slowly approached from the house, all wearing matching confused looks.

"Hardly," stated Amenadiel with his head inclining respectfully towards the kids.

"For the record, every kill I have ever committed was in self-defense and for the greater good of the country, not because of Dad," Michael replied a second later, crossing his arms. "I was to play Dad's role of Just Defender." He pointed at Gabriel. "He was to be Chosen Leader." He then motioned at Lucifer. "Loving Loyalist." He pointed to Castiel. "And Fierce Warrior." Michael shrugged. "Only we had better plans for ourselves that didn't involve murdering people for the hell of it."

"What about you, Amenadiel? What was your nickname?"

The man chuckled quietly. "Neither I nor Raphael factored into Father's plans. We were solely considered enforcers only."

"In other words, Daddy dearest was a racist asshole in addition to being a murderous monster."

"That," Michael agreed with a fierce nod.

"But all the murders—"

"Dad ordered them. Uriel and others like him carried his orders out. Everyone Dad ever told me to kill, however, are very much alive." Michael then glanced at Billie. "And if you don't believe me, then speak with your boss, Dean. I gave her a list of everyone ever ordered to death. And the locations of all known victims of our father."

"As have I," Amenadiel stated flatly. "It was a condition of our deal in fact."

Dean glanced at Billie, who nodded back in return.

"So, wait, you're good guys then?" Jack asked clearly puzzled.

"Eh," Lucifer answered with a dismissive shrug "I'm not really one for labels truthfully. Makes things horribly messy later when I color outside the lines."

Michael rolled his eyes as Amenadiel sighed heavily and hung his head.

When three more people walked into the backyard, everyone instantly went on their guard.

"You're late," Dean remarked wearily at the newcomers, glancing at the men dressed in suits.

"Oh, eat me, Winchester," grumbled Crowley as he strode towards them. "We were only locked in your bloody basement!"

"What he said," Ketch huffed, brushing off his suit with a disgusted look.

Benny, however, was the only one of the three who glanced at Sam and Gabriel. "Judgin' by your glares, you two sad saps still ain't married, are ya?" He snorted and shook his head when they didn't reply. "Well, shit, let's get you two married. What the hell are we all waitin' for here? Sunset?"

"Agent LaFitte?"

"Yes, ma'am?" Benny replied, glancing at Billie sheepishly as if he had just noticed her.

"Quit pissing off the grooms."

"Understood, ma'am," he mumbled, his eyes falling to the ground.

"Wait. I saw you hanging around the house like a creeper lately," Claire declared, staring at the balding man in the very nice tailored suit.

"Name's Crowley, love," he replied, tipping his head politely towards her. "I was tasked with protecting your family."

"Not well," Dean remarked.

"None of you are bleeding or dead, are you?"

"I am," Lucifer spoke up, earning a few glares from the others. "But I'll live naturally. Not than anyone cares here it seems," he muttered.

"Um, Sam, can I, uh, see you in the house for a minute?" Gabriel quietly asked after a moment, grabbing his fiancé's hand. He didn't wait for the answer before he pulled Sam behind and into the guest room. As soon as they were inside, he shut the door behind them, finally noticing Sam's look.

"Gabe?"

His hands were shaking, he noticed numbly as he stared at them. When he felt hands on his back a moment later, he let out a shaky exhale and turned back to Sam, glancing up and meeting the hazel staring down at him in obvious concern.

"Do you even still want to marry me today?" Gabriel asked. The words punched out of him fearfully. "Or, like, ever? After all that?"

Sam gave him a dimpled grin, though, and gently cupped Gabriel's face in his large hands.

"Breathe. All right? Just breathe."

He brushed off Sam's words, though. "I get—I mean, I'll understand if you don't—"

"Gabe, breathe."

"I don't know what—it was like everything just rushed back. And I just—he trained me to be like, but that's not me, Sam. I'm not—I swear I'm not—"

"Shh." Sam pulled him into a tight embrace, swiftly setting his chin on top of Gabe's head. "I know. I know you're not. Just breathe for me, though. Okay? Just breathe for me."

"It's not okay. It's so not—" He buried his face into further Sam's chest, drawing in as much of the offered strength as he could. "I haven't even touched a gun in years. Not since Cas was training to be a marshal." He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. The scent of the musky cologne Sam wore surrounded him with the hint of Moroccan oil shampoo he used as well. "The second he told me how he wanted to be a marshal, I was right there, looking up to see what he needed to be one. I sacrificed everything for him. He was a year below the minimum requirement, so it gave us some time and see what skills he needed to work on. I quizzed him on stupid obscure laws and stuff, and if he got it wrong, we'd spar to keep him in fighting shape. It wasn't long before he was able to kick my ass. But it quickly became obvious how damn nervous he was around guns. It was why Dad was so hard on him, I think. Because Cassie didn't live up to what Dad envisioned for him. He didn't play the part, toe the line so to speak."

Sam said nothing as Gabriel continued rambling. He just merely continued holding him silently.

"I was the opposite. I mean, I'm not a gun fanatic by any means, but—" His voice cut out sharply. "So I took Cassie to the range every day for at least six months, and we were there almost eight or nine hours every day after his last class of the day. Until he could shoot without any hesitation, dead on his marks every time to the point where it was almost second nature. Until I was convinced he'd be a damn good marshal who could protect himself and others effectively—and smartly. Until I was sure he'd be safe and get himself out of any situation and come back home alive." Gabriel sighed heavily, burying his face further into Sam. He remembered the first year after his brother became a marshal and how many sleepless nights he had, worried out of his mind that something would happen. "And the second he told me they had accepted him into the program and how they had been so impressed with him, I locked that gun up in my room and didn't think about it again. I didn't. Not until Lucifer's call. And then all I could think about was protecting you. Keeping you safe. Making sure I didn't lose you. Because I love you. I love you with every fucking bit of my being."

"I know you do," Sam murmured, rubbing his back.

"It would destroy me if anything happened to you. So, after Dean told me that Lucifer had followed me out here, I kept that gun with me at the ready ever since. Just in case. Because I needed to keep you safe. I knew Dean would protect Cassie—and that Cassie could even protect himself. He had become a better shot than me, you see. But seeing Lucifer and Dad just now—I had to keep you safe."

"Gabe, it's okay."

"It's not, though. Nothing about this was okay." He pulled back, stepping out of Sam's embrace. "I lied to you. I hid this part of myself from you. And you—"

"And I'm safe. Dean and Cas are safe. The kids are safe." Sam stepped back into his space and cupped Gabe's face in his hands again, pushing his head back up somewhat so their gaze met. "We're all safe, Gabe. And your dad is locked up now. He can't hurt anyone anymore. Okay?" His eyes softened slightly. "Is it a little unsettling to find out that you had a loaded gun hidden away and were going to bring it to our wedding for a just in case? Yeah. It is, but so did Cas and Dean, it seems." He brushed his lips lovingly over Gabriel's before pressing their heads together lightly. "And, sure, when I imagined our wedding, I didn't ever think you'd shoot someone at it, but that's—well, shit happens."

Gabriel half-laughed, pulling back to stare back incredulously. "Shit happens?"

"It's seriously the only thing I can think of right now," Sam admitted with a shrug. "But your question if I still want to marry you, Gabe? The answer is always yes." He splayed his hand against Gabriel's chest. "I know your heart, your soul. I know how everything you've ever done is to protect the ones you love. To keep them safe. How you would do anything for us. Even if it meant hiding crap just to keep the peace, to give us a chance at happiness."

Amber eyes glanced down at the floor.

"However, that changes now. No more self-sacrificing bullshit. On either of our parts. Got it?" Sam gently pushed his chin back up. "We're partners. So, in the words of my brother, your shit is now my shit and vice versa. All right? No more secrets. No more hiding. No more lies. Not even if we think it's in the either's best interest. Because look what happens." He shrugged. "I end up inviting your serial killer father to our wedding and you shoot your older brother."

Gabriel smiled faintly, nodding slowly.

"Though, I will say this. Seeing you take charge like that, all in command and looking all damn powerful—I know it's a part you don't like—but I have never been more hard than seeing that."

"What?" he croaked, blinking rapidly.

Sam chuckled awkwardly, his eyes glancing guiltily down at the floor briefly before returning to Gabe's. "I may have a bit of a, well, power play kink. Possibly."

"Well, that I knew, Samshine, but . . . seriously?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'm not saying we enter the whole _Fifty Shades_ domain—"

"Damn. I'll cancel the sex room addition then," Gabriel joked, grinning widely as his insides untangled at the lightness around them. Sam truly wasn't terrified of that part of him? Seriously?

Sam rolled his eyes at the interruption. "I'm just saying I secretly enjoyed seeing that side."

"Because you're a needy bottom?"

He shoved Gabriel back from him, scoffing. "Oh, shut up, asshole."

"Why don't you make me?" he challenged, his lips twitching.

They were crazy. No doubt about it. Crazy in love that was. Or maybe just crazy. Jury was still out deliberating that.

Or maybe it was the dust and drama finally settling, letting them be Sam and Gabe again.

"Because that'd make us even later to our wedding, and I'm tired of being interrupted."

"You seriously still want to marry me?"

"Yes." Sam glanced back with a hesitant frown. "Don't you?"

"Definitely, but now I've got that lovely admission of yours rooting around in my mind," he said, tapping his fingers against his head.

"What?" Sam barked a laugh.

"That's what made you interested, isn't it?"

"You mean, the night in the strip club bathroom?" When Gabriel nodded slowly, Sam grinned and shrugged. "You knew what you wanted and were completely honest about it, albeit obnoxious a little even. And the lines—Gabe, you have to admit. We have epic lines full of all the sexual tension one could handle. Eileen even says our lines are fucking hot sometimes."

He snorted, rolling his eyes. "So, my coming on way too damn strong—"

"You made me feel like I was the only person in the entire world that night. Like everyone else was just background noise, and it's just you and me against the world. And when you direct that damn attention even more on me? Man, I'm lost in it. Like nothing else matters."

"I'm a freaking mess, though."

"Maybe, but you're working on living with it. Gabe, I mean, you're putting in so much work. To make sure we are good as well as yourself. And that—that's something that is so—you want this. I want this for you. For _us_. I want to wake up with the sun on our faces in your arms, knowing how in your eyes I'm your happy ending, how I'm your never-ending Christmas gift. Yours. Just like you're mine."

"That's incredibly sappy of you."

"Yeah, maybe, but it's the truth. You're my missing piece, and I couldn't bare to live without you any longer. So, now that the darkness, the fears, you've been hiding for so long, now that it's all over with, let's get married. Let's scream our love to each other at the world. Let's get our happy ending, our piece of the good life, our family. Put all this in the past and embrace our future."

"I want to."

"Then, seriously, what's stopping you?"

"How fucking delicious you look in that suit currently." The words tumbled from his lips before he could stop it. "I'm seriously seconds away from saying 'Fuck it' and shoving you onto that bed." And that was no lie. He was only holding himself back because he didn't want to ruin their clothes.

Sam burst out laughing, shaking his head before he pressed their chests firmly together so every part was touching. His hand easily slid through the sandy waves before he gently tugged Gabriel's head back. His lips lowered then, and he pressed teasing kisses over Gabriel's carotid, nipping and lapping at it every now and then.

"You think I look good in this?" he murmured against the reddening flesh.

"Undeniably," he groaned, melting under Sam's fingers. Touch starvation was something he learned was definitely real and something he suffered from, thanks to this beautiful man of his.

"Just wait until you see the present I have for you underneath it," Sam smirked in pure delight and mischief into his ear. His chuckles were low.

Gabriel choked instantly, his eyes widening as he bit back a trembling groan. "What?"

His Samheart released him a second later, though, taking a step back. "Now, I think we've delayed long enough. Don't you?"

"You're being a complete brat today," he grumbled, stuffing a hand into his pocket to readjust himself slightly. A brat who wasn't playing fair in the slightest. Though, Gabriel only had himself to blame for this if he were honest. He had been the one to corrupt Sam after all.

"Come on. The quicker we say 'I do,' the quicker you can drive that thick cock of yours—"

"SAM!"

His pure sunshiny moose chuckled, though, bounding out of the room. His shoulder slammed hard into the door frame before he continued and bounced off a wall in the hallway as Gabriel chased after him through the house. They both flew out the opened patio door towards their guests.

"What the hell?" someone remarked.

Gabriel, however, leapt off the steps, tackling his chortling fiancé from behind and sending them both hard onto the ground. He ignored everyone's outraged looks, focused entirely on his trouble-making fiancé. Sam's laughter increased, shaking them both. Gabriel grabbed a handful of leaves and mud from beside them and smashed it against Sam's face a second later, hearing the responding coughs and sputters of shock. Served him right.

A second later, Sam managed somehow to roll them into another puddle of mud, ruining their good clothes entirely. The two men then quickly felt themselves ripped apart from one another. And then came the raucous laughter as they caught sight of each other.

"Your hair!" Gabriel cried, doubling over at the sight of the fluffy, mud-caked locks.

" _My_ hair? You should see yours!" Sam retorted, wiping at his muddy tears.

They were laughing so hard they were practically sobbing. However, both had only eyes for the other. Sam tossed his ruined jacket a second later, motioning for Dean to let him go. His brother reluctantly released him with a hesitant look.

"Ready?" he asked, holding his hand out to Gabriel with his palm up.

"Hells yeah," Gabriel drawled back, lacing their fingers together.

They then glanced at the onlookers of their friends and family who were staring back entirely shocked at their behavior.

"What? Haven't you ever seen a Wreck-the-Suits wedding before?" Sam said with a flippant shrug before he and Gabriel walked towards the archway.

" _Idjits,"_ a familiar voice grumbled from one of the iPads either Claire or Jack was holding.

" _Oh, hush, Bobby,"_ laughed another voice. _"Let the boys do it their way."_

"So, who's marrying us anyway?" Gabriel asked, glancing back when everyone remained where they were in shock still.

"That'd be me," Ketch replied, slowly walking forward. He raised a brow as he walked around the couple before he gave a quiet laugh. "You boys certainly know how to throw a wedding, don't you?"

"You have no idea," Sam quipped, squeezing Gabriel's hand.

Ketch lowered his voice. "I'm correct to assume we're doing this the non-traditional way, yes?"

They nodded in agreement with Ketch.

"Understood." He then addressed the rest of the crowd. "If the men of honor could join us up here sometime soon please?"

A moment later, Cas and Dean headed up there at the makeshift altar, stepping off to their respective sides next to their brothers as everyone else moved to gather around.

"Thank you," Ketch quietly stated. "We are gathered here today to witness the joyous, albeit slightly strange, wedding of Gabriel Novak and Sam Winchester. They have elected, as I'm sure comes as no surprise to anyone, to adopt a non-traditional ceremony." His eyes sharply glanced at the couple, catching Sam's minute nod to the unasked question. "Sam?" He stepped back a second later.

Loving hazel eyes met the radiant amber.

"I had these amazing vows all ready, sappier and sweeter than anything, but now—I don't know. They don't seem good enough for this moment." Sam gave a quiet laugh, brushing back his muddy hair. "Since you came strolling into my life, I've found everything I ever thought about myself be questioned constantly. You challenge me in ways I never thought were possible. And you show me undying love, unwavering support, and unending protection. Every time I think I have you figured out, you switch up the game on me. And I know the one constant, the one thing, here going for us is that our lives will always be a never-ending adventure. And just when we think it's getting boring and sappy, something will come up to challenge us and we'll kick it in the ass too. So," Sam turned towards his brother and held out his hand, grabbing the black band that had symbols engraved into it "with this ring, I pledge to remain by your side, even when you're driving me up the wall like usual. I swear to love you, even when you make that damn hard. I promise to fulfill your needs and wants, even when I really only want to punch you in the face instead. And I vow with my entire soul to be yours and yours alone."

"No 'even when?" Gabriel quipped, his eyes sparkling with silent laughter.

"Not with that one," Sam replied, smiling faintly as he slid the wedding band up Gabriel's finger. They squeezed one another's hands lightly, rubbing their thumbs against the other's back of their hand.

"Gabriel?" Ketch stated quietly a moment later.

"Yeah. I know." He forced a soft chuckle. "Just trying to think up what to say." He pressed his lips together in deep thought for a few more moments. "All right. I think I got something here."

Sam laughed, rolling his eyes in response.

"You are the first person I've ever truly loved, romantically speaking of course." Gabriel's eyes quickly darted from Sam's when he saw the shock. He needed to keep going. "I always talked a big game, thinking it was the only thing I had going for me. So, that night when you played the game with me, I found myself intrigued but reluctant that it could be real. Because I always found that once the fun was over with and the mystery was solved, I was left alone again. So I had prepared myself for it. But then you strode into my studio, not taking no for an answer until we talked. You showed me time after time that in your eyes I was worth something. And then we started dating, keeping it quiet. And you didn't argue once about why I would want to keep that quiet. We sneaked around for years. Then I asked you to marry me, and you surprised me yet again by saying 'Yes' when you had no reason to." He swallowed down his nerves, closing his eyes and drawing in a slow breath. "And lately everything I've hid from you has given you plenty reasons why you shouldn't. For every lie, every misdirection, every bit of darkness that's seen the light of day now, you just pushed it aside, though. You've seen me at my worst so many times. And for some reason, you still want to marry me. So, in the words of Asia—"

Sam instantly clapped his hand over Gabriel's mouth.

"No. Just no," he said, shaking his head firmly before he lowered his hand.

"—it was the Heat of the Moment!"

Sam groaned loudly as Gabriel snickered, turning and holding his hand out to Cas.

"With this ring, I pledge to love you forever. I promise to protect you and keep you safe always. I swear I will always be by your side, sickness or health, good or bad, even after you eat an entire pint of ice cream." Dean chuckled at this. "And I vow that there is no one else my heart will ever be tied to but yours and yours alone." He then gave a quiet laugh. "Until our kid comes around at least. Then I'm dumping your ass to spoil our child and love them with every ounce of my soul." He slid the black ring with silver engraved ruins up Sam's ring finger gradually before lifting Sam's hand up and kissing his ring while holding Sam's eyes.

"Well, now," Ketch smirked lasciviously "by the power vested in me by the state of Kansas, I now pronounce you both husband and husband. You may kiss." He then added under his breath, "Not that either of you have ever needed the permission before."

The couple laughed before they stepped into one another's space. Sam bent down slightly, laughing when he caught Gabriel going up on his tiptoes to meet him halfway. They turned their heads, lips brushing feather light against one another's for a second. When Gabriel pulled him further down, he chuckled but submitted, his fingers curling into Gabriel's shirt. They were complete and utter mud balls, caked with dirt and leaves. But neither cared.

Sam's free hand came up to slide against the side of his husband's neck, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat underneath. They tipped their heads more, angling more to be even closer to one another. The rest of the world was far from them. It was only them in this moment alone.

When he felt the surprisingly hesitant tongue gently prod, he parted instantly, inhaling deeply when he felt the familiar warmth. They breathed one another in more, tangling up even tighter. Their kiss turned more heated as time passed. Their fingers curled more, Gabe's in Sam's hair and Sam's in Gabe's shirt and against his neck.

When their lower bodies rocked against each other unexpectedly, the world yanked them back to the present at the sudden sensation that shook them. The newlyweds chuckled lowly, catching the other's gleeful, apologetic look. Their fingers twisted around each other in secret whispers of promises of later. Because there would be a fucking later. That was for damn sure.

They turned around and instantly were bathed in confetti and different colored powders by their friends and family. Sam chuckled quietly, shaking his head and sending more confetti to fall onto the ground. He glanced down at the ground with a soft smile before glancing out of the corner of his eye.

Gabriel instantly brought his free hand up and tousled his hair, sending the rainbow confetti and powder flying every which way with flecks of loose mud as well. He then made a face before he sneezed, more confetti and powder flying as a result. He smiled when Sam kissed his cheek.

"You're adorable," Sam whispered.

Amber eyes sparkled with such warmth back before Gabriel returned the favor, murmuring near Sam's ear, "And you're not going to be able to walk straight for a week after I'm done with you." He caught Sam's sharp inhale at once and chuckled quietly as he pulled back with a self-satisfied smirk.

* * *

As the day drew on, more laughs rang out as the fears of the past became distant memories. The family, chosen and otherwise, enjoyed themselves under the glow of the waning sun. An array of random music (country, pop, and classic rock from many eras) played in the background with sounds of joy filling the air. COVID was temporarily forgotten in their happy bubble.

"No. Seriously. I'm telling you."

"You aren't telling me shit, dude," Dean drawled back at his brother-in-law, sipping on his fifth beer with Cas at his side. "You're spinning your ridiculous tall tales again. That's all. Plain and simple."

"Then, how about a friendly wager, gentlemen?"

"Luci," frowned Amenadiel.

"What?" the second oldest brother remarked before he turned towards Michael who was off to the side talking to Billie, where he had been half the night already. "Mikey! Quit talking to the beautiful woman and answer this. Who do you think would win in a game of beer pong? Gabe or Dean?"

Michael crossed his arms in response before he pointedly turned his back to them.

"Well, that was rude." Lucifer then glanced towards his new brother-in-law. "What say you, Sam? Your husband or your brother?"

Sam snorted, taking a long sip of his beer wisely.

"You're an idiot," Dean scoffed. "Sammy knows I'd win hands down."

Gabriel scoffed, rolling his eyes. "No. Your brother just doesn't want to decide between the man he loves and the man who helped raise him. Cassie would be the same way."

"Gabriel," Cas said quietly, glancing down.

"Yeah, Cassie?"

His brother shook his head, though. "No. Gabriel would win at beer pong," Cas stated softly.

"Ha! See! Even my brother says so!" shouted the proud big brother happily. "In your face, Winchester!"

"Um, I hate to break the fun up, but, uh," Claire interrupted as she and Kaia stepped up to them.

"I have to be heading home unfortunately," Kaia continued with a shy smile, brushing back her long hair from her face. "I just wanted to offer my congratulations before I left."

"Thank you," Sam said, stepping towards her with an offered pink and blue dyed hand.

She glanced at it for a few seconds before she grabbed it and hugged him warmly instead. She then embraced Gabriel, laughing when he offered a hushed suggestion only for her ears.

"It was nice to meet you in person, Kaia. You're always welcome here," Dean declared, offering his hand as well to her.

Her face lit up brightly before she threw her arms around him, kissing his cheek. "Thank you." She then smiled at Cas, giving him a brief hug. "Thank you all for being so welcoming. Claire was nervous that—"

"Hey, I was not!" argued the blonde.

"—you wouldn't be once you found out we're together. It's not that she thought you wouldn't be okay with it. She does. It's just I've done some stupid stuff in my past I'm not really proud of honestly, but I'm getting better every day. And I love your daughter, sirs. I really do."

Dean nodded slowly, clearly at a loss of what to say.

"I'll walk you out," Claire quietly said, motioning Kaia towards the house.

"All right. What did you tell her?" Sam asked as soon as the two were out of earshot.

"Who?" Gabriel asked with a frown.

"Kaia. What did you whisper to her when you were hugging?"

"Yeah, man. What'd you say?" Dean asked, playing his favorite pastime, gang up Gabriel.

He shrugged back. "Nothing perverted. Just that they looked happy together and how she should go for giving Claire a quick kiss before she left."

"Well, aren't you Mr. Romance?" Lucifer snorted.

"I read," Gabriel drawled, taking a long sip from his glass of whiskey. His eyes then darted towards Michael and Billie as they finally approached.

"I should be heading out soon," Michael quietly stated. "Thank you for allowing me to stay. It's been some time since I've actually enjoyed myself honestly."

Gabriel nodded slowly, his throat dry. Everything he thought he knew was . . . different now.

"This is usually where the big brother tells you to watch over his bratty little brother," Michael said to Sam, "but . . . let's face it. Gabe's been watching out for him and Castiel longer than I've known him at this point. So, I'm merely going to say instead, 'Love him to your dying day' then."

"I will."

"I know," Michael replied with a soft laugh as he shook Sam's hand. He then glanced at Dean and sighed quietly. "I want you to know. I didn't know at the time you were married to Castiel. I merely followed my father's orders and extracted you. I only knew the basic intel concerning you. Your name. Your job. Your marital status. How many kids you had. Dad kept the fact that you were married to Cas hidden from me." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, holding it out. "I know you probably have questions about then. I understand the need to have closure. So, whenever you need to talk or want to ask something about that time, you have my number. Just be aware I may not pick up right away. Nature of my job and all. But I will always get your message."

Dean glanced at the card in his hand and nodded slowly, swallowing thickly.

"Goodbye, Castiel." Michael's eyes then darted to his other silent brother. "Gabriel." He grasped his brother's hand and arm firmly, meeting his gaze. "You did good." He released him a moment later and sighed heavily. "Come on, Lucifer. Let's get you back to Chloe."

"But—" He yelped when Michael grabbed his ear and yanked him to the door with Amenadiel following closely behind.

"I don't suppose you can let us know what you were talking to Michael about," Dean asked his boss quietly.

Billie gave a gentle smile and shook her head. "Unfortunately, no. However, I do have something else for you, though." She pulled out a folded letter a moment later and handed it to him.

"It's approved?" Dean breathed in obvious disbelief.

"Yes." She inclined her head towards him. "Effective immediately. As requested."

"Dean?" Cas murmured, brows knitting together as he glanced at the paper.

He slowly unfolded the piece of paper and sighed, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

"Thank you, Billie."

"Don't mention it," she replied, waving away Dean's words. "Just do me a favor, Winchester. Hold onto that apple pie life of yours with both hands." She held his gaze. "Not all of us are so lucky to get that chance in life, especially not in the one we've lived."

His lips twitched as he nodded back jerkily, holding the paper numbly in his hands.

"Now, if you'll forgive me, I've got some paperwork to catch up concerning the mess you've left me." She glanced at Crowley and Benny. "I think it's safe to say we can remove the detail. So, consider yourselves off duty effective immediately. And enjoy yourselves, gentlemen. But I expect you both on Zoom at 0700 tomorrow morning with no complaints. Understood?"

"Yes, ma'am," both agents replied politely.

She swiftly turned away a second later and strode away.

"Dean?" Cas quietly asked, tilting his head slight to the right. "What is it?"

He laughed quietly, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "They're my retirement papers, Cas."

"Retirement?" Sam repeated, grabbing the paper from his brother's hand and reading it over. "You're no longer an agent?"

Crowley, Ketch, and Benny were silent but all smiled proudly but with a little resignation too.

"Nope," Dean declared. "This ass is finally going to do what I said all those years ago. Cas, me, Jack, and Claire. Toes in the sand. Couple of those umbrella drinks, man. Cas and me in matching Hawaiian shirts obviously. Some hula girls maybe." Dean's smile was wide as his eyes were bright and full of life. "It's time, Sammy. It's time I hung it up for good. I've been talking to Billie about it for years now, but if this shit taught me anything, well, hell, it's that nothing's guaranteed. And I want to live out the rest of my life with my family, the kids and Cas. I've done enough. It's in others' hands now." He chuckled when Cas stared at him with watery eyes.

"You've shouldered a great—"

"I know," Dean interrupted. "But I'm done. For real. From now on, it's just you, me, and the kids, Cas. That's it. Until you get sick of me and ship me off to Sammy's I mean."

"Never." Cas gently kissed him, full body sighing in relief. "I could never."

"Then you're stuck with me, angel."

Jack and Claire instantly hugged their dads tightly.

"Well, I'll be damned. Good for you, Dean-o." Gabriel raised his glass to him.

"Thanks, man." Dean kissed the top of the kids' heads and sighed. "Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Since your idea didn't work with the wedding singer, you mind if I do your idea?"

"What?" Sam jerked in surprise.

"I know the song, man. So I'm offering."

"You do?"

"Yeah. Eileen had sent it to me awhile back in case she couldn't get anyone lined up."

"Really?"

"Would I lie about that, dude?"

"Uh, yeah, I mean, if you could, I'd—that'd be awesome."

"Let me get my guitar then." Dean gave Cas a quick peck on the cheek before he rushed inside.

"What song?" Gabriel asked bewildered.

Sam chuckled, though. "You'll recognize it. Trust me."

Dean came back a few minutes later with his guitar in hand. He started strumming it with familiar chords, Gabriel's eyes widening instantly.

" _Ain't no reason why I should have to worry,"_ Dean sang in a deep country drawl. _"I can run all night and I don't have to lie."_ He chuckled quietly. _"Another lonely boy out to take a chance—"_ His fingers strummed slowly as he approached. _"—in a lonely world filled with circumstance for each."_

"Whoa. Dad can sing? Since when?"

" _When the sun goes down, I can hear the laughter,"_ Cas picked up, singing in a similar but slightly more on pitch drawl. _"People all around that don't know what they want."_ His eyes twinkled in silent amusement. _"Standing all in line, just to get a glance."_ His smile grew. _"Spending all their time, searching for romance."_ His head cocked to the side. _"It's nothing that's real."_

" _Living at night, woah-oah!"_ Cas and Dean both sang together. _"Living at night, woah-oah!"_ Their smiles grew even wider. _"Living at night!"_

Dean gave a little bit of a flourish as he plucked before he glanced at his brother and nodded.

" _When I see the lights, I can feel the tension,"_ sang Sam, wincing when he realized he was too far ahead and Dean was trying to compensate for it. _"The words aren't always right but the music's always loud."_ He held Gabriel's shocked eyes. _"Standing all alone, do you wanna dance?"_ he sang, grabbing his husband's hands. _"Well, I can take you home for a wild romance with me."_ He spun Gabe into his chest, swaying with the guitar and rocking against his husband's body, before he murmured low and almost raspy, _"With me."_

Gabriel joined in then as the three started to sing the chorus. _"Living at night, woah-oah!"_ They all laughed, singing at one another. _"Living at night, woah-oah!"_ Dean sang loudly. _"Living at night, woah-oah!"_ Cas shouted up at the heavens. _"Living at night, woah-oah!"_ Sam belted out, swaying with Gabe in his arms. The newlyweds were completely soft with one another, singing _their_ song.

Dean played his power ballad guitar solo then, acting like he was performing in front of a sold-out show. The others laughed quietly with him as he exaggerated his strumming and did his best Slash impression. He then nodded a few moments later, signaling they could all continue.

" _Living at night, woah-oah!"_ Jack and Claire sang at the top of their lungs, finally joining in, before they dissolved into fits of laughter. _"Living at night, woah-oah!"_

" _There ain't no reason why,"_ Sam crooned, grinning widely as he glanced down at Gabriel. " _that I should have to worry"_

" _Living at night, woah-oah,"_ Cas, Dean, and the kids sang in the background.

" _I can run all night,"_ Gabe's eyes raised, meeting the loving hazel, _"and I don't have to lie."_

" _Living at night, woah-oah!"_ The family all sang loud and proud before bursting out laughing.


End file.
